


Softly

by starlightpeddler



Series: The Quietly Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 199,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/pseuds/starlightpeddler
Summary: Albus and Scorpius enter life after Hogwarts and find that their days aren’t easier without classes and exams. With personal baggage, family obligations, and a wizarding community that’s far more complex than they’d anticipated, Albus and Scorpius have to rely on more than just each other to survive.





	1. Exactly

 

> _Scorpius,_
> 
> _I will be long gone by the time you read this. It will have been nearly five years, if the healers at St. Mungo’s are right, and I know that by the time your father places this letter in your hands, you will be a young wizard of great talent and even greater heart._
> 
> _As I write this, you are asleep in the window seat of my study, curled around a book with the sunlight coming in from outside. Our days grow short and I know this summer has been the both the longest and shortest of your young life. You have not left my side for a bit of it, though the weather has been pleasant and you have a brand-new broom, and I am selfishly grateful. Every minute with you is even more precious to me now, and I hope that when you are old enough to understand and love your own children as much as I love you, you will look back on these weeks and know just how much your presence has comforted me._
> 
> _If you are reading this, you have just graduated from Hogwarts. I am so very sorry that I was not there, but know that I have been watching over you every moment, and I hope that in some small way, you have been able to feel my presence in your moments of both need and triumph. As I watch you now, thirteen and so open and unabashedly yourself, I know that you’ll grow into a kind and loving young man, and I do hope that your final years at school have been kinder than the ones I was able to witness._
> 
> _I wish I could see the man you are now. Maybe you are planning to join the Ministry of Magic. Perhaps you are planning to become a healer or a historian. Maybe you are a Quidditch player or a world-class Wizard’s Chess master. You could be planning to be Minister of Magic or a teacher at Hogwarts - no matter what path you have chosen, always remember that I am as proud of you now as they day I penned this letter._
> 
> _It will have been hard for you, I know, to have gone on without me and to have faced your teenage years without your mother, and it will have been difficult to have watched your father grieve. I know that life will not have been easy for you after my passing, and I hope that you have found friends and kept the ones you have. You and Albus have always taken care of one another, and I hope that doesn’t end with your graduation, and that you spent your ceremony surrounded by friends you will keep as you start to build your life._
> 
> _I hope that at eighteen you’re in love (or that you will be soon) - that you’ve fallen in love young and that you will have all the time you could possibly want, and I hope that you and the person you love treat each other with kindness and forgiveness, because in the end, I can assure you that is all that matters._
> 
> _My beautiful boy - I love you so much, and I am so proud of you._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Astoria_

Scorpius looked up from the letter and out across the Apennine Mountains, leaning into the railing of the balcony. The mild weather made him feel weightless as the morning light met the treetops, and he watched the sunrise like he had every morning since they’d left England.

He folded the letter carefully and slid it back into its thick parchment envelope before tucking it in his pocket, sniffing back some tears. He and Albus had been away from home for three weeks, moving from town to town through the Floo network, visiting wizarding settlements and muggle museums alike throughout Italy.

Scorpius had regretted their decision to leave almost immediately. His enthusiasm to get away and his impulse to just act _normal_ had gotten the better of him, and with the rush of exploring, he’d pushed Albus too hard too fast without even realizing. By the end of the third day he’d had to figure out the Roman muggle taxi system in a language he was barely passable in because Albus, despite his valiant effort, was nearly unable to walk.

Albus was a better liar than Scorpius had given him credit for, and his poker face was unshakable for the first few days. He insisted he was fine in the mornings, ready to go exploring again, and Scorpius wanted so badly to believe him. He’d relied on his cane and had taken a few more breaks than Scorpius would have otherwise, but had kept a smile on until they’d reached the wizarding settlement of Mirto in southern Italy. Only then did he ask for a day to just explore the small village and rest.

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?” Scorpius asked in their small, rented room at the heart of the settlement. He’d folded his arms and scowled while Albus poured himself another glass of wine.

“You were having so much fun,” Albus had said. “And it’s just a little sore - that’s all.”

Scorpius wasn’t fooled, and he’d tried to convince Albus it was time to go home, but it was no use. He suspected Albus wanted to keep travelling for the same unspoken reason they’d taken the trip to start with, despite Draco’s pleas that they stay – their lives had become a series of befores and afters. _Before_ the Time Turner Incident. _After_ Godric’s Hollow. _Before_ Scorpius was held captive. _After_ Albus was injured.

They had to do something to make this _after_ a bit more enjoyable.

Now, Scorpius looked over his shoulder through the small glass door, attempting to quell his headache by rubbing his temples. Albus was still asleep in bed, tangled in the sheets with the pillows awkwardly placed under his knee to make himself comfortable, his hand resting above him on the pillow wrapped in gauze because Albus just _had_ to play with the dragons at the Mirto preserve and the hatchling Romanian Longhorn had bit him.

“He’s the runt of the litter,” Albus had said affectionately while his hand bled on the dragon’s tail. “He doesn’t know how to socialize.”

Scorpius shook his head and looked out over the mountains again, closing his eyes and enjoying the stillness until he lost track of time.

“What are you doing out here?”

Scorpius jumped, startled, and looked back to Albus standing in the doorway with his sloppy morning smile.

“Just getting some air.”

“You were reading that letter again, weren’t you?”

Scorpius looked away, his hand instinctively moving towards his pocket. Albus limped from the doorway to join him at the railing, and Scorpius leaned over to kiss the top of his head.

“I might have been,” he admitted.

“Are you ever going to let me see it?”

“Maybe someday,” Scorpius said. “When I can read it without tearing up.”

“We cry a lot for Slytherins,” Albus said thoughtfully.

“Well, you get teary when you’re frustrated,” Scorpius said. “I’m just a child in an adult’s body.”

“That’s not true,” Albus protested through a yawn. “You’re at least a first year in an adult’s body.”

Scorpius laughed, which seemed to be enough for Albus because he smiled sleepily and sank into one of the patio chairs.

“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Scorpius asked. “You still look tired.”

“We have museums to see,” Albus said, twirling his wand between his fingertips. “And bookstores to visit, I’m sure. Possibly a library or two.”

“I think we should go home today,” Scorpius said carefully. Albus’ hand went still and he looked up, displeased.

“No, we’re going into Florence today,” Albus said slowly. “And the day after tomorrow we’re going to Turin.”

Scorpius chose his words carefully. “We’ve been gone for a while,” he said, leaning back on the railing nonchalantly. “I’ve already frightened three families just by _being_ Scorpius Malfoy –“

“Neither of us were expecting that story to have been covered internationally,” Albus defended. “And that mother needed to calm down. You were just handing her kid back the toy wand.”

Scorpius continued. “And I’m starting to get nervous about finding a flat -”

“You’re a bad liar,” Albus said coolly. “We do not need to go back early. I’m quite enjoying myself and I’m just fine.”

“You nearly collapsed yesterday and almost fell asleep in your pizza.”

“That was the wine,” Albus said defensively.

“You always were a cheap drunk.”

Albus scowled at him.

“We’re not going home,” Albus declared, unwrapping the bandage from his hand. “I’m just a little slow is all.”

Scorpius took the seat across from him and examined the bite marks. It was nearly healed, thanks to some spectacular salve one of the Mirto wizards had given them.

“It’s going to leave a scar,” Scorpius said, disappointed.

“Wicked,” Albus countered, grinning as he examined the marks on the back of his hand. “It actually _looks_ like a dragon bite. I can’t wait to show Uncle Charlie.”

“So the death wish thing... that’s a Weasley trait?”

“I get it from both sides,” Albus said, holding his hand out to the light. “And it’s not a death wish. It’s just old-fashioned recklessness.”

Scorpius shook his head, playing with Albus’ fingers. “You should have been a Gryffindor.”

Before Albus could offer his usual snarky reply, three owls swooped down onto the balcony - one reaching Albus and two landing in front of Scorpius. He untied the letter from the unknown owl first and it flew off instantly, clearly having better things to do, but his favorite of the Malfoy owls, Noctua, gave him an affectionate _hoot_ and he stroked her feathers lightly as he unburdened her.

“Oh, no,” Albus said, examining his letter.

“What?”

“It’s our N.E.W.T. scores.”

“ _Yes.”_

Scorpius ripped his open eagerly and unrolled the parchment, ignoring the introductory language and skipping right to his scores at the center of the page.

“O’s and E’s,” Scorpius announced. “What about you?”

Albus slumped in his chair. To anyone else, it may have looked like defeat, but Scorpius knew better - Albus was relieved. He silently handed over his letter and Scorpius grabbed it, scanning it quickly.

“You got an _Outstanding_ on Creatures, Potions _and_ Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he said as Albus read Scorpius’ scores. “That’s excellent.”

“Well, so did you - except Defense. Dad might take that personally,” Albus said. “And you got O’s in History of Magic and Runes.”

“I would have gotten one in Astronomy too if I’d slept better the night before.”

Albus pursed his lips. He remembered the night before the Astronomy exam, and it hadn’t been pleasant.

“We all have bad nights,” Albus said, possibly for the millionth time.

Scorpius set down the parchment, relieved. He hadn’t expected an _outstanding_ on his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam anyway - he’d hesitated too long with the boggart and hadn’t exactly maintained his composure - but he’d been worried sick about Albus’ Care of Magical Creatures results. Not only did his job at the Magizoology Society depend on it, the test had followed their Defense exam and Albus had been distracted.

“Well,” Scorpius began, smiling, “it looks like you had nothing to worry about at all concerning your job.”

“Nothing at all,” Albus agreed, though the way he looked out over the mountains said he was very worried indeed.

Scorpius sighed and grabbed the second letter, recognizing Ainsley’s loopy handwriting immediately. He pulled out her letter and found it longer than expected.

“Who’s that from?”

“Ainsley,” Scorpius said. “She says dad and Dania took her into London to replace all of the things her mother had bought her.”

Albus laughed. “That’s such a Malfoy thing to do.”

Scorpius looked at him over the top of his glasses.

“It was my suggestion.”

“ _Exactly_.”

* * *

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace and into the Potters’ sitting room with no warning or introduction and walked swiftly into their kitchen where Harry and Ginny were enjoying their coffee late into Sunday morning in their pajamas.

“Potters,” he began quickly, tossing several newspapers down onto the table. Ginny jumped and looked up at him. “We need to talk about our sons.”

“Good morning to you too, Draco.”

“What did they do now?” Harry asked, flatly, turning the page of his book idly.

“At least put your book down,” Draco said, and when Harry did not he snatched it from his hands and dogeared the page before setting it down atop the papers.

“Don’t _ever_ let Hermione see you do that,” Ginny warned. She and Harry looked at Draco, amused, which only served to irritate him more.

“This isn’t funny,” Draco snapped. Harry grinned in delight. “We have a problem.”

“Does it have anything to do with you wearing that ridiculous jumper in summer?” Ginny asked. Harry gestured for Draco to sit, but was ignored.

“I have spent the last week searching for a suitable living place for Scorpius - and thus Albus,” Draco explained. Harry looked down and realized he had brought muggle newspapers, and he looked at Draco’s worried face, a brow quirked in amusement. “And I know that they said they wanted to do things by themselves and I accepted it at the time, but do you have _any_ idea what some of these flats in London look like? The ones they would be able to afford?”

“Yes, Draco,” Harry said, sipping his coffee calmly.

“No son of mine will be living in one of these _hovels_ ,” Draco demanded. “And I’ll be damned if I’d see Albus living in one of them too. After everything they’ve been through...”

“Draco, please sit down,” Ginny repeated. She was ignored again.

“How could you possibly let Albus live in one of these places? You know as well as I do that all the living spaces in Diagon Alley are full -”

“Draco, please.”

“And for Merlin’s sake, all those _stairs_ in those muggle complexes. And they wouldn’t even be able to use magic regularly -”

“It’s really cute how you’re so protective of Albus now,” Ginny said, smiling sweetly.

“It’s not _cute_ , Weasley -”

“Potter,” Ginny corrected.

“It’s practical. If _your_ son is miserable, _my_ son is miserable.”

“They’re not going to be _miserable_ ,” Harry said firmly, raising his voice. “Now _sit down, Malfoy._ ”

Draco sneered at him, and fell into the vacant seat across from him.

“We already have a plan,” Harry assured him.

“Oh, this should be good -”

“If you don’t shut up I won’t help the next time your son is kidnapped,” Harry snapped.

Draco folded his arms and fell silent, scowling.

“What’s your plan?”

“I was going to write to you later today about this. You’re either going to like the idea or hate it,” Harry said. “But it’s the best one I have.”

Draco didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“I still happen to own some property in London,” Harry said slowly. “And I’d like to see it finally put to good use.”

“Property in London?”

“Yes. Did you... did your mother ever take you to 12 Grimmauld Place?”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“No,” said Draco quickly, shaking his head. He’d heard stories of that drafty house with its inhabitants as cold as the upstairs drawing room. He remembered is photographs of his mother’s showing the family tree spread across a wall. She’d pointed out his face in one of those photographs when she’d tried to explain his long, proud lineage.

“Scorpius can’t live there.”

“No one has been there for years,” Ginny said, reaching across the table and patting Draco’s arm to comfort him, and he was surprised at himself for not pulling away. “Harry and I visited it a few days ago. It’s so dreary and old, so we were going to renovate it.”

“And it won’t look anything like what it was before?”

“No,” said Harry. “It will be the kind of place Sirius would have been proud of.”

Draco looked down at the table for a moment. It was, for all pragmatic purposes, a perfectly sound plan, though the idea of setting foot in his mother’s family home made his skin crawl. What was left of the Black family hadn’t exactly approved of his post-Hogwarts choices, and certainly wouldn’t approve of his son’s Potter-boyfriend.

“Is the family tree still there?”

Harry nodded slowly, and Draco met his eyes.

“Can we tear it out?”

Harry grinned mischievously, and it struck him once again that Albus had inherited some of his father’s expressions.

“With pleasure.”

* * *

Albus sat on an old bench in Piazza Della Repubblica, licking away at a Nutella gelato cone. The sun was bright but the dry air and breeze had kept them comfortable all day as they went from place to place with Scorpius hailing taxis whenever they had to go more than a block. Albus was impressed with how quickly he’d picked up the skill.

He sat and rested, one hand idly tapping his sore knee, as Scorpius wandered into the center of the square near the ornate carousel, a guidebook in one hand and his gelato cone in the other. He looked around, consulting the book over and over, squinting into the sun while he looked for things. Albus watched his face as he tried to translate the words above the grand arch, nudging his glasses up absently and smearing gelato on the lens.

Albus rested his chin in his hand, smiling as Scorpius wiped them clean with his sleeve - he always wore long sleeves now to hide his scars, just like his father - wrinkling his nose in annoyance at the interruption. His hair was nearly the brightest thing in the square, and Albus laughed as two small children ran past him and he dodged quickly, all long-legs and flailing arms.

 _How_ , Albus wondered _, can he possibly be such a good dancer and such a klutz the rest of the time_?

Scorpius’ attention went back to his guide book for a moment as he wandered closer to the carousel - Albus was sure he’d hear all about its historical significance and the importance some long-forgotten wizard architect had on the construction of the plaza in a few minutes, and that Scorpius was just entertaining himself until Albus’ knee decided to stop twitching again.

Albus was just about to stand up and join him when Scorpius grinned and looked up from a plaque he’d been examining - one of the informational ones Albus usually ignored. It was the same grin Scorpius had when he performed well on a test or mastered a difficult spell, and with the sun in his hair and the distance between where they were now and all the pain and bullying and jeering, Albus felt a swell of gratitude he’d become very familiar with.

He watched, smiling stupidly, as Scorpius all but skipped back to where he sat.

“Your gelato is melting,” Scorpius laughed as he approached. Albus looked at his hand and saw a trickle of liquid running down his hand, and he licked it off while Scorpius sat down beside him.

“So, did you know that it was actually one of your Aunt Fleur’s ancestors who designed that arch?” Scorpius chattered. “It was way back on her father’s side...”

Albus stopped listening, not because he didn’t enjoy listening to Scorpius’ excited rants, but because he was thrilled at their return - however slow, and however sparse. He bit into the cone absently, watching as Scorpius talked with his hands and pointed at things, his voice bright and interested.

“Are you listening?” Scorpius asked.

“No,” Albus laughed honestly. “But keep talking anyway.”

* * *

Draco and Harry stood shoulder to shoulder in the empty room, staring at the Black family tree. All the other faces and names blended together with their cruel smiles or scowls, until Draco got to the bottom where his aunts and parents were. He stared at his own face for a long time before Harry spoke, snapping him from his disdainful reverie.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Is ‘aggressively’ an option?”

“Yes, but ‘quickly’ is too.”

A crash and laughter from downstairs told them that Ginny and Dania had begun arranging the new furniture.

“Let’s blast it down,” Draco said. “The whole wall. We’ll just make this room the library.”

“Do they _really_ need a library?”

“Have you _met_ my son?”

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right. Besides, I’m making sure the kitchen is decent so Albus can cook.”

“Good, because if he doesn’t, they’ll both starve. I don’t even think Scorpius can make a sandwich.”

Harry laughed and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which was grimy from a day of clearing out the second floor. Magic was all well and good for moving and cleaning, but the dust had been insurmountable and Draco wondered if he looked as rough. They’d been going at this for two days and the sun had nearly set. Even with Ginny and Dania’s combined knowledge of household spells and Draco and Ainsley’s eye for decorating, there was at least one day left.

Draco drew his wand from the inside of his sleeve and eyed the wall again. It was just a wall, he knew. A _thing_ , but taking it down so his son could live in this old house felt more significant than he’d expected.

“Alright there?”

“Yeah,” Draco answered. “It’s just a little warm.”

Harry sighed and lowered his wand.

“You can take the jumper off, you know,” Harry said. “It’s the middle of summer and… well, we all know it’s there.”

Draco looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye and saw that his arms were crossed.

“I never…” Draco stopped and sighed. “I think Scorpius has only ever seen it once or twice.”

“We’ve both got scars from Voldemort,” Harry reminded him. “At least yours isn’t on your face.”

Draco laughed in spite of himself, considering Harry’s words, and after a moment he reached for the hem of his jumper and pulled it off. The temperature was far more agreeable in just a t-shirt.

“Better?”

“Better,” Draco confirmed.

Harry glanced at Draco’s forearm curiously, and he turned it so Harry could get a better look. The Dark Mark wasn’t recognizable now. Over the years it had turned into an oddly-shaped scar that looked more like a burn, which Draco felt was appropriate. To him, it was like an old brand – a remnant from when he was someone else’s property.

“You can barely tell what it is,” Harry said with a shrug.

Draco said nothing, and raised his wand to the wall, staring directly at Bellatrix Lestrange’s manic eyes.

“Come on, Potter,” Draco said. “This library isn’t going to build its self.”

* * *

Scorpius stretched out across the bed, staring up through the sky light. Milan’s wizarding community was small and sparsely populated, but their primary location of business was, as Scorpius had found, quite impressive. He swirled his finger in the air, levitating a purportedly enchanted glass bauble in the air as he did so, watching the light refract through the swirled colors.

“It still creeps me our when you do that,” Albus said from the desk as he wrote a letter to his parents, updating them on their whereabouts and plans for return.

“Sorry. I can stop.”

“No, it’s fine,” Albus admitted. “I’m sure it’s just natural for you.”

“It’s not,” Scorpius admitted. Wandless magic would never be natural for him, but he suspected that whatever strange energy ran through him would bottle up if he didn’t use it from time to time. “I don’t think that it’s going to be normal, but I don’t want to forget how to use it again.”

Albus looked at him for a long moment before turning back to the desk shuffling the papers around.

“I better write to your dad again,” Albus said. “I don’t want him to have a heart attack because it’s been more than 24 hours.”

“I definitely don’t want another Howler.”

“One day!” Albus cried. “We missed one day.”

Scorpius laughed, willing the bauble to spin in the air above him. After a few moments of writing, Albus handed the letters over to Noctua, who had been waiting for the last half hour, and took her to the window.

“Do you want to go get lunch?” Albus asked. Scorpius snatched the glass from the air and looked at him. Albus was leaning against the windowsill, hands in his pockets.

“You’re still sore from going out earlier,” Scorpius said. It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll be alright,” Albus assured him, but Scorpius shook his head.

“I’ll just go grab sandwiches form the little café next door,” Scorpius said, scrambling inelegantly to his feet. “They looked pretty good in the window.”

Albus paused for a moment before nodding, and glanced at his watch.

“Hurry back,” he said.

“I can go grab lunch on my own,” Scorpius assured him, somewhat amused at his reticence. Still, Albus held out his hand, and Scorpius walked over to him. The rules of being Albus Potter’s boyfriend had changed significantly in the last 6 months, and he was all too happy to oblige when it came to the little things.

Scorpius leaned down and gave Albus a brief kiss before wrapping his arms around Albus’ shoulders.

“I just worry, you know?”

“I know,” Scorpius whispered against his hair. He didn’t want to admit that he worried too.

                                                                                                                                                

* * *

Ainsley had barely spoken all day. She’d taken on the most solitary tasks, happy to be pulling together Scorpius’ new life in some part, but still wanting some solitude. It wasn’t until they began assembling the library late in the day that anyone took notice.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” James said, levitating up the last crate of books and settling it at the center of the large room Harry and Draco created.

“Just trying to get things done,” Ainsley said absently. She took a box of marked “Albus’ Desk” and set it on a table before rummaging through it.

“This is actually going a lot faster with you here, James,” Dania said, arranging some photos on a wall.

“Believe me, Bill would have had me working this weekend if he could have.”

Ainsley watched as Draco and Dania laid out some framed photographs and trinkets – a globe that spun in time with the earth, Scorpius’ antique astronomical clock, and a massive Slytherin banner.

“Thank you for helping,” Draco said quietly as Dania shook the banner out. “I really do appreciate it.”

Ainsley paused at the tone in Draco’s voice. It was rare that he sounded so soft and gentle, even when his words were compassionate. It was a voice he usually reserved for Scorpius, and that he’d only used for Ainsley a few times.

“Of course,” Dania said with a smile. “I haven’t gotten to spend much time with him or with Albus, but they seem lovely. And I know how much you love your son.”

Draco watched closely as Dania repaired some of the stitching on the old banner with her wand. Ainsley wasn’t sure if he looked confused or affectionate, but she was certain he was entirely unaware of the Potters milling about around him, laughing and exchanging jokes. Lily nearly ran into him chasing after James, and he didn’t even notice.

“Oh!”

Dania withdrew a silver frame from the box and held it out to look at it, smiling.

“It’s Scorpius and Astoria. Where should we put it?”

She looked around the room, examining the rapidly-filling shelves and surfaces.

“On the wall?” Draco suggested weakly. Dania shook her head.

“No, it needs to be somewhere he’ll see it every day.”

Dania walked over to Scorpius’ desk near the window and set it in the corner – out of the way, but still prominent.

“There?”

Ainsley looked from the photo of Astoria and a ten-year-old Scorpius to Draco’s helpless face. It was still difficult, she’d found, to look at photos of her aunt – but not as difficult as it was to look in the mirror.

“Is that okay?” Dania asked in response to Draco’s expression. He stared at her. “We can put it on the wall instead -- ”

Draco said nothing and set down the books he was holding before drawing Dania into his arms and hugging her tight, his face turned away from Ainsley and into her mahogany hair. Ginny glanced at them and quickly looked away.

Ainsley barely remembered her father, but she was certain he’d never held Daphne Greengrass like that. Maybe if he had, she wouldn’t be here with the Malfoys and Potters.

Draco whispered something in Dania’s ear, and Ainsley saw her smile before stepping back, holding Draco’s hand. Only then did Ainsley look back down into the box of Albus’ things – a mixture of old school supplies and disorganized trinkets.

“Ainsley?”

She looked up at James.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I was actually just wondering if you wanted to let me deal with Albus’ things. He’s an awful organizer.”

“Yeah. Great.”

Ainsley stepped away from Albus’ desk and excused herself from the room quickly.

* * *

Scorpius walked slowly beside Albus as they examined Strada del Mago – Turin’s version of Diagon Alley. Eccentricity, it seemed, was not a trait of only British wizards, and Scorpius didn’t mind walking at Albus’ pace at all – there was entirely too much to see.

Albus, for his part, seemed just as excited. All the bright colors and interesting voices assaulted them, and he stopped to look into what appeared to be a high-end Quidditch shop.

“I wonder if the Italian racing brooms are better than ours,” he wondered aloud. “Like Ferraris.”

“What’s Ferrari?”

“It’s a kind of car,” Albus explained. “They’re supposed to be really fast. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen one.”

“Sounds like something my father would own.”

“It’s _exactly_ something your father would own,” Albus agreed. “I’m going to have to learn to drive when we get back. There’s no way around it. James said he’d teach me before we left.”

“So you two are getting along better?”

“Actually, yes. Now that he’s acting like a rational human being, things are much easier.”

Scorpius spotted their destination ahead – a small restaurant tucked in the corner of the alley that Dania had sworn served the best tiramisù she’d ever tasted.

“I think that’s the place,” Scorpius said. Albus looked down the road, running a hand through his hair, leaving it messier than before. Scorpius found it adorable.

“Nice,” Albus muttered. “I’m starving.”

He stepped away from the window, a bit off balance but far better than he’d been the day before. Still, Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus’ shoulders, lending some support.

“I wish you’d use your cane more consistently,” Scorpius said.

“You sound like my mother.”

“Your mother and I both care about you,” Scorpius reminded him. “And we don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Albus grumbled at him, but was cut off.

“Malfoy?”

Scorpius paused and looked around, but it only took him a moment to find the speaker – an older woman, standing in the doorway of the shop next to the café. She spoke with a thick Italian accent and grasped the shoulder of a young girl tightly, her crinkled eyes wide and fearful.

“Pardon?” Scorpius asked.

It became immediately apparent that the woman spoke little English as she rambled to the girl rapidly in Italian, shuffling her inside. She glared at Scorpius, who heard his surname no less than three times during her tirade, and he wasn’t entirely certain, but he thought he heard her butcher the word “Voldemort” as well.

He stared until the woman had successfully ushered the reluctant girl inside, and followed her into the shop, slamming the door behind herself.

Scorpius sighed, somewhat deflated and aware that, if he really wanted to, he could give the old woman something to be afraid of.

“What’s that? The fifth time that’s happened?”

“Sixth. And let’s not forget the homophobic waiter.”

“No, of course not,” said Scorpius flatly. “That we can get at home. I thought at least we’d be able to avoid this for a while.”

Scorpius gestured at the woman, who was still watching him closely.

“It’s fine,” Albus assured him. “Really. Let them be afraid. It means no one will hurt you.”

Scorpius looked down at him and saw that Albus was smiling encouragingly.

“I think I’m ready to go home, Al,” he confessed. Albus looked at the shop window where the woman was still glaring at them, gripping her wand, and he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he agreed finally. “We’ll head back in the morning. But first, tiramisu.”

* * *

There was so much noise coming from upstairs – laughter, the shuffling of boxes, the sound of furniture being levitated and settled on the old floor – and Ainsley couldn’t concentrate. She stuck her wand between her teeth and busied her hands with arranging pots and pans in the largest cabinet. With only a week left until her seventeenth birthday, she was able to get away with smaller spells while surrounded by other wizards, but she didn’t quite have the focus to stack the cookware properly.

“Need help?”

Ainsley didn’t look up. James’ voice was easily identifiable.

“I think I’ve got it,” she said, impeded by the wand between her teeth. As soon as she said it, the pans shifted and fell off their shelf with several of them clattering to the floor.

“Bloody hell,” she swore, tossing her wand on the counter and crouching down to gather the pans. James joined her.

“Is everything okay?” James asked gently. Ainsley looked up at him and his eyes looked so earnest that it gave her pause and she sank down to sit on the floor.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

James nested the smaller pots in the larger ones and levitated the stacks into the cabinet before sitting down on the floor in front of her.

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to,” James said evenly. Ainsley folded her hands in her lap and looked at him. If his reputation hadn’t preceded him, Ainsley would have assumed at first glance that James Potter was everything that was warm and comforting. Unlike Albus, whose dark hair, sometimes pale skin and bright green eyes screamed _contrast_ like the edge of an incoming storm _,_ James took after his mother. His messy cinnamon hair and warm brown eyes gave the impression of a burnt orange sunset, and Ainsley found it endearing.

No wonder he’d dated his way through all of Gryffindor.

“One dance does not entitle you to all of my private thoughts,” Ainsley said, twisting her bracelet around her wrist. The badger charm was a constant reminder that she didn’t belong where she came from, but didn’t quite belong where she was either.

“No,” James agreed. “It doesn’t. But you can’t stop be from being concerned. You’ve been avoiding everyone all day and everyone’s worried.”

She looked up at him, tight-lipped.

“Well, not everyone,” he conceded. “Draco keeps saying it’s not a big deal every time mum and Lily ask.”

Ainsley exhaled slowly. She wasn’t good at talking about her feelings and was even worse at addressing family issues, which had become a more prominent topic than ever since winter.

“The Ministry located my father about a week ago,” she told him. James watched her, silent, waiting for her to continue.

“He was a French wizard – pureblood, of course, from some old family - but that’s all I really remembered. He and mum got divorced well before I was old enough to remember anything and she never talked about him. I only ever saw one photo.”

“I’m sorry,” James said. He looked it too, Ainsley realized, and so she continued.

“I always thought she drove him away. I mean, we know she’s evil.”

James scowled, obviously thinking of how she’d crippled his brother, but said nothing.

“When she went to Azkaban, the Ministry started looking for him because technically I’m still a minor until next week. And they found him, living in Lyon, and explained the situation. And he promptly relinquished his parental rights and made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me.”

“What?”

Ainsley shrugged in feigned nonchalance.

“He hadn’t seen me since I was a baby,” she told him. “I don’t know what I expected.”

James reached out as if he intended to take her hand, but thought better of it.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “That’s –“

“It is what it is,” Ainsley interrupted, getting to her feet. She hadn’t discussed the matter with anyone but Draco, who had promised instantly that she’d always have a home at the Malfoy Manor, and reminded her over and over again that she was family to both him and Scorpius.

Ainsley wished desperately that her cousin was here.

James jumped to his feet, dusting himself off quickly.

“You have to know that it’s his loss,” James said quietly. “Anyone who knows you would agree.”

Ainsley said nothing and busied herself organizing the silverware tray, acutely aware that James was watching her. They stood in silence until James placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You deserve to start over with the Malfoys and your friends – people who actually care about you.”

“I don’t have many friends left after my mother’s trial,” she admitted.

“You have Scorpius and Albus. And Lily likes you – though that may be because she’s jealous of your hair.”

Ainsley chuckled and slipped the tray into the drawer before using _scourgify_ to clear debris off the counter.

“And I don’t see Scorpius and Albus going anywhere, so that kind of makes you part of the Potter-Weasley-Grangers. I’ll make sure you get your honorary Weasley sweater this Christmas.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“They’re quite fashionable,” James reminded her, and she smiled up at him, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll have all the Hufflepuff boys fawning all over you.”

Her own father hadn’t wanted her, and her mother couldn’t set aside her pureblood agenda long enough to consider the consequences her actions could have on her only child. Ainsley was certain most of the students at Hogwarts would steer clear of her during her seventh year, the Hufflepuff boys included.

“I don’t think many of the Hufflepuff boys are interested in a neo-Death Eater’s pureblood daughter,” Ainsley admitted. “Besides, they’re all so…”

“Nice?”

“Boring.”

She leaned into the counter, looking down at her hazy reflection in the marble surface, wishing once again that she looked less like a Greengrass. She’d give up her straight features and smooth honey brown hair in a heartbeat if it meant she could pass as _anything_ else.

“Just as well,” James said, leaning back on the counter and folding his arms. “Gives me more of a chance at convincing you to go out with me.”

“Oh, really?”

Ainsley looked at the wolfish grin on his face – the only feature he shared with his brother.

“Of course. Just because you’ve thus far ignored my invitations for drinks, a trip to Hogsmeade, dinner in London –“ he ticked off the requests on his fingers “flying in the countryside and that party out at Finnigan-Thomas’ house doesn’t mean I’ve given up.”

Ainsley blushed and subsequently hated herself for it.

“I thought you’d have moved on,” she conceded. “That is your modus operandi, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps it was previously,” James conceded. “But I’m determined to make you like me.”

Ainsley shuffled her feet.

“It’s not that I don’t like you, James,” she muttered.

“It’s not?” James asked, surprised. She looked up at him again, feeling short, small, and ineloquent all at once.

“Of course not. It’s just…” Ainsley looked away, focusing instead on a cluster of mugs waiting to be shelved. “A lot has happened. It’s a lot to take in – a lot of change.”

“I can wait,” James said. “You’ll find I can be patient as well as persistent. I once took a week-long vow of silence in an effort to get a new broom.”

“How did that work?”

“It didn’t, but my parents did gain a new level of respect for my stubbornness.”

Ainsley couldn’t help but laugh at him, nervously playing with her bracelet once more.

“Take as long as you need,” James said, his voice suddenly serious and heavy. “I’ll still be here.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

* * *

Harry, Ginny and Draco had gone down to the kitchen to receive some celebratory Butterbeer upon completion of the final guest room, but stopped short when the stumbled upon the scene in the kitchen. James had been an excellent consoler when his siblings and cousins had cried as children, but Harry had never seen him use those skills on anyone outside the family.

The three stood outside the door, hidden from view, and listened to the end of James and Ainsley’s conversation with parental curiosity. Ginny stifled a laugh at James’ reference to his childhood silent protest, sharing a grin with Harry.

When the pair left through the other side of the room so Ainsley could show James what she’d done with the rear patio, Draco folded his arms and looked at Harry.

“What the hell is it with your sons and these Greengrass children?” he asked, aghast.

“I have no idea,” Harry admitted, his hands raised in surrender.

“What is it with those Greengrass kids and the Weasley boys?” Ginny retorted. She and Draco locked eyes, staring each other down until all three started laughing.

“Damn Weasleys,” Draco said, shaking his head and sauntering into the kitchen. Harry grinned.

“ _Exactly_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. 
> 
>  


	2. Home

Scorpius threw both their bags over his shoulders as he stared into the fireplace. One more transfer and they’d be back at the Potter house, right on schedule.

“I have no idea how you do that,” Albus said, looking at his watch.

“Do what?”

“Time everything perfectly.”

Scorpius wrapped an arm around Albus’ shoulders, standing on his toes a bit to rest his chin atop Albus’ mop of black hair.

“I hate that you can do that now,” Albus grumbled. Scorpius grinned and held him closer.

“That’s what I do it.”

The witch minding the Leaky Cauldron’s Floo connection eyed them suspiciously, but Scorpius paid her no mind.  It was too much work to figure out if people found him suspicious because he was the Son of Voldemort, a Malfoy, or if it was simply the fact that he and Albus hadn’t tried to hide their affection for one another for the last two years. Besides, he was too busy trying to stay upright with all the books he’d brought back weighing on his shoulders. He watched the clock on the wall closely, and when it began chiming for 10 am, he looked down at her for permission.

“Go on,” she said.

Albus took Scorpius’ hand and pulled him into the fireplace slowly and carefully. It only took one botched connection that landed them in a particularly shady inn to make Albus one of the most cautious Floo-travelers the wizarding world had ever seen.

Only a few seconds later, they stepped into the Potters’ living room. Albus hadn’t even had time to shake off the disorientation before he saw that Draco already had Scorpius locked in a crushing hug, both of them tangled in the straps of the bags over Scorpius’ shoulders. Scorpius made a small, strangled sound before he started laughing.

“I missed you too,” he said, though Albus hadn’t heard Draco say anything.

“Al!”

Albus looked up and saw his mother and father sitting on the stairs to the sitting room, waiting calmly, with mugs in their hands. He grinned as Ginny slid down from the step and met him in the middle of the room, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Did you have a good time?”

“We had a great time,” Albus said, tossing his cane onto the couch. From the corner of his eye, he caught Scorpius watching him as Draco seemingly examined him for injury.

Harry hugged Albus briefly before Lily shoved him out of the way, her red hair suddenly everywhere as she launched herself at Albus, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Careful – “

“I’m fine,” Albus laughed, steadying himself and waving his hand dismissively at Scorpius’ concern.

“Al! Did you have a good time? What did you bring me?”

“Seriously, that’s the first thing you ask? Not – are you okay? What was your favorite place to visit? Did you get bit by any dragons?”

Ginny glared at him. “For Merlin’s sake, Al – did a dragon bite you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Albus said, holding out his hand to show off the scar. He wasn’t sure why he was proud of it – probably because every time he noticed it he was reminded of how the tiny dragon had trusted him to feed it and no one else.

“What kind was it?” asked Harry.

“A Romanian Longhorn. A baby one.”

“Where?” Lily asked, bouncing. She was sixteen, but her childlike energy had yet to wane.

“Mirto,” Albus told her. Scorpius extracted himself from Draco’s embrace to hand Albus his rucksack, which Albus dug into quickly. He found a small box and handed it to Lily, which she opened quickly.

“Oh!”

“I got that in Mirto too.”

Lily extracted a long necklace made from dark green beads. It shimmered brilliantly in the light, and the shades of green changed rapidly as she moved her hand.

“The beads are made from Longhorn scales. They shed them pretty frequently as they get older and some of the wizards make jewelry from it.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to wear it.”

Albus smiled as she pulled back her hair to put it on, and he handed a similar one to his mother.

“I got you the black one. I figured it went with more of what you wear to those _Prophet_ functions.”

Ginny smiled and kissed Albus on the cheek before smiling at him fondly.

“What?” Albus asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just very proud of you. That’s all.”

Albus smiled sheepishly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“All I did was survive a vacation, mum,” Albus said. “Don’t be proud until I haven’t gotten myself sacked from work on the first day.”

Harry shook his head. “You won’t get sacked. But we are proud of your N.E.W.T. scores.”

“Thanks,” Albus replied, going a bit red around the ears. He looked over his shoulder at Draco and Scorpius and was surprised to see that Ainsley was with him. She was standing behind Draco, who still appeared to be interrogating Scorpius, and was notably devoid of her usual smile. She was rarely silent, and hadn’t even looked at Albus. Instead, she was rubbing her forehead, somewhat exasperated.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy!” Albus said, just loud enough to interrupt what sounded like Scorpius’ account of their time in Mirto.

“You were bit by a dragon?” Draco rounded on him. Scorpius his face in his hands, either to hide his amusement or his embarrassment, and didn’t look up when Draco turned back to him. “When on earth did you come in contact with a _dragon_ , Scorpius! That’s dangerous!”

“In our defense, Scorpius never touched the dragon!” Albus said quickly. “It was me! It was just me.”

“If it had been a Peruvian Vipertooth, you’d be dead.”

“It was a Romanian Longhorn,” Albus defended. “I didn’t go near the Vipertooth.”

Scorpius groaned.

“There was a Vipertooth?” Draco roared. He looked between Albus and Scorpius, agape. “How could you possibly be so irresponsible?”

“We weren’t being irresponsible,” Scorpius said calmly. “We were with several dragon handlers. There were a handful of infant dragons and the runt took a liking to Albus. He was the only one the dragon would allow to feed it.”

Albus straightened up proudly.

“Your Uncle Charlie would be proud,” Ginny said with a grin.

“That’s what I said!” Albus cried, looking back at Draco.

“ _Proud_?” Draco hissed. “Albus, we talked about this.”

“Talked about what?” Scorpius asked, looking between them. Albus narrowed his eyes at Draco just a bit, wanting nothing more than for him to just be quiet, but he was doubtful he was going to get what he wanted.

Surprisingly, Draco held his tongue, but it was too late. Scorpius couldn’t handle not knowing things.

“What did you two talk about?”

“He made me agree I wouldn’t let you get into anything dangerous,” Albus said quietly, still staring at Draco. Behind him, Ainsley wrapped her arms around herself and looked down.

Ginny sighed. “Draco, Scorpius doesn’t need protecting.”

Scorpius’ shoulders dropped and what happiness had settled on his slightly-sunburned face faded quickly, and Albus was crushed. It was like watching a month’s worth of progress fade away, and he’d been trying so hard to make Scorpius happy.

“You two… you discussed this?”

Draco stared at Albus for a beat longer before looking at Scorpius.

“I just asked him to make sure you didn’t go anywhere dangerous,” Draco said. “That’s all.”

“He threatened to put a security detail on us,” Albus admitted helplessly, earning another glare from Draco. “What was I supposed to say?”

Scorpius said nothing and just folded his arms, looking between them. An awkward silence settled over the room, and Albus looked to his parents for help, but all Harry could offer was a shrug. They looked around at one another awkwardly until Ainsley finally spoke up.

“Can we take them to the house please?”

Scorpius’ brow furrowed instantly.

“What house?”

* * *

“You have got to be kidding me,” Albus said, looking around. They had arrived into the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place after apparating onto the street and now a set of keys dangled from Albus’ limp hand. The room was awash in blue and green with dark wood bookshelves lining the walls, stocked with trinkets and artifacts from the Malfoy Manor and photos of the Potter family. He looked around into the open kitchen and saw new pots and pans hanging from the rack with a pristine stone countertop ready for vegetables to be chopped on it.

Albus watched as Scorpius ran his hand over the cloth of the sofa and looked out into the London street. With the silencing charms, they couldn’t hear any of the hustle and bustle of the muggles moving about, and the quiet was only broken when Scorpius ran his fingertips over the small piano tucked into the corner, striking a few notes.

“Well?” Draco asked expectantly.

Albus watched Scorpius closely, ready to let his own reaction be guided by his boyfriend’s.

“Well…” Scorpius echoed weakly.

Albus sat down on the arm of the couch and looked up at his father. He knew what this place was – Sirius Black’s home. It was a place Harry and Ginny had considered living after they got married, but Harry had quickly realized the place had too many memories, and it sat empty for years. Albus had never even visited when they’d been in London.

“Dad, why are we here?”

“We – your mother, Draco, and I – with Ainsley, Dania, Lily and James… we renovated this house. We changed it into…” Harry looked out the window too, struggling to find the words. “I think Sirius wanted this house to stay in my family when he left it to me. I know he didn’t leave it to me because he thought I’d sell it to start out after Hogwarts – he knew I had enough money, but it was a mess the way it was. So we tore down some walls and drove out the doxies and now it’s yours. If you want it.”

Albus looked around, astonished. He’d been picturing some small flat on the outskirts of London, not an entire house only a few miles from Westminster Abbey – a house with a fireplace and a sitting room and a real kitchen where he could make meals for himself and Scorpius. It was a place they could have friends visit – a place they could have a dog or a _family_.

Albus shook the thought off and looked up at his father. Harry stood over him expectantly, his hands in his pockets and his scar hidden by his hair. Without robes and without the scar, he was just a normal father offering his son a home – a place to start out.

“Dad… I…”

“It’s lovely,” Scorpius supplied, his voice tight. He looked at Draco, who had been quiet since they’d left the Potter home.

Ginny smiled at Albus and brushed his hair back from his face, patting his cheek. “The only thing we ask is that when your siblings or cousins need a place to stay, you let them use the rooms upstairs.”

“There’s plenty,” Harry said with a shrug. “Far too many.”

“Of course,” Albus said quickly, looking to Scorpius.

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Potter,” Scorpius said, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.

“This was your grandmother’s ancestral home,” Draco explained. “She grew up here.”

“And I spent some time here while I was at Hogwarts,” Harry added. “And while Ron, Hermione and I were hunting Horcruxes.”

Albus met Scorpius’ gaze and knew that they both understood. This house mattered in different ways to both their fathers and the act of bequeathing it unto them was a sign of good faith between their families.

Albus looked back up at his father and made sure he met Harry’s eyes. It was a weighty thing, he knew, for Harry Potter to hand over his godfather’s home. Sirius had been very dear to his heart, and keeping Grimmauld Place had been an emotional act instead of a practical one.

“Thank you.”

Scorpius looked between Draco and Harry.

“So… we decided to move in together… and you two just decided we should have a house?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Draco said. Harry nodded as Ainsley came up to Scorpius’ side and linked her arm with his, looking up at him.

“Besides,” Draco continued, “those other muggle flats in London were dreadful. I spent half the time looking for insects instead of appraising the rooms.”

Scorpius could to no more than shake his head in disbelief.

Albus looked around and spotted his old pewter Eiffel Tower figure settled on one of the shelves next to a decommissioned snitch Harry had received as a souvenir after a World Cup just for being Harry Potter.

“Wait. Did you already move us in?”

“Well, yes,” Ginny explained. “We thought it would add to the surprise.”

“Surprise!” said Ainsley, feigning excitement.

“So we get back and we’ve already been kicked out of our homes?” Albus asked, looking between his parents and Draco. “Nice.”

“Oh, shut up,” laughed Ginny, nudging his shoulder. Albus grinned at her as Scorpius draped his arm around Ainsley’s shoulders.

“This place is pretty big,” Scorpius observed. “Do we get the grand tour?”

“Yes!” said Ainsley. She threw her arms wide and gestured around. “This is your sitting room and kitchen, which required the destruction of not one, but _two_ walls.”

She wiggled two fingers at them before skipping over to the kitchen counters and running her hand along the rack of pots as if they were a wind chime.

“New pots and pans. New plates. Normal electric refrigerator for maximum convenience, just like at the Potters’.”

“I know you like to cook,” Harry added as Albus limped over to inspect the kitchen himself. He addressed Scorpius’ befuddled look. “Sometimes muggles actually have an easier answer for some things.”

“I’ll learn,” Scorpius said, watching as Ainsley showed Albus where everything was.

“Is his leg okay?” Ginny asked him quietly. Scorpius shrugged.

“It’s not great, but it’s been worse,” he told her.

“Come this way!” Ainsley called, ushering Albus from the kitchen and into the hall.

She showed them the formal dining room, which Albus and Scorpius vowed they would never use unless absolutely necessary, and the spare room where Harry had insisted they add a television. Albus only stopped smiling when they got to the stairs.

“Oh.”

Albus stared up the tall staircase with a wrinkled nose.

“I dealt with it at school,” he told Scorpius lightly. “I’ll be fine here -”

“Actually,” Ginny interrupted, “it turns out Draco is quite good at charms.”

Scorpius looked at his father.

“Stand on the bottom step, Albus,” Draco instructed.

Albus, skeptical, took hold of the banister and stepped up. After a moment’s wait, the wood beneath his feet rose from its resting place and began to carry him up the stairs. He chuckled, looking down at Draco.

“That’s very clever.”

“I try.”

“I _did_ deal with the stairs at Hogwarts,” Albus told him, rising higher. “I could have made it.”

Albus saw Scorpius eyeing his feet with the utmost hatred and annoyance.

“But you don’t have to,” Ginny noted, climbing the stairs behind him. She looked over her shoulder at Scorpius. “Come on. You need to see the library.”

“Library?”

“Library,” confirmed Draco.

Scorpius ran up the stairs, all his irritation and sad acceptance forgotten for a moment. He passed Ginny and ran past Albus as soon as he reached the top, opening three doors until he found _the one_. He stood in the doorway until Albus reached him, the others only a few steps behind.

The library was painted blue – his favorite color – and was stocked full of books from the Malfoy Manor collection, as well as some new ones Draco and Ainsley had picked out at Flourish and Blotts.

“Freya!”

Scorpius walked over to what appeared to be Albus’ desk – it had some of his things tucked in the small shelves – where his white cat was sprawled lazily across the surface. He picked her up and cradled her, and Albus was certain he could hear her purring even at a distance.

“Do you think this is a bit much?” Albus asked Harry. Draco answered instead.

“Nothing is too much for my son.”

Before Albus could offer a snarky reply, Scorpius began ranting.

“This is fantastic! All the history books – and the muggle novels! Oh, I love Dickens – did you get all of them? Yes! They’re all here! And Bagshot’s _entire_ collection? Oh, this is beautiful. Just beautiful.”

Albus watched as he went from shelf to shelf, assessing the books and thanking Draco profusely. It wasn’t until he got to the desk under the window that he paused.

“What’s this?”

Scorpius picked up a frame, suddenly still, and Albus walked to his side.

“That must have been right before Hogwarts,” he said quietly. “That’s what you looked like on the train.”

Astoria had her arms around a young Scorpius in the photo. They appeared to be in the Malfoy Manor garden, and they were laughing. Albus watched as the photo Astoria kissed Scorpius’ forehead and the young Scorpius laughed even harder.

“She did that a lot,” Scorpius whispered, his hand moving to his pocket where Albus knew he kept her letter.

“ _You_ do that a lot,” Albus said softly. Scorpius smiled down at him for a moment before looking back at Draco, Freya nestled contently in the crook of his arm.

“You didn’t have to do all of this. Any of you.”

“We know,” Harry said. “But we remember how hard it was right after Hogwarts, and you two have been through enough.”

“It wasn’t hard for me,” Draco admitted. “My father bought a chateau in France just to get rid of me for a year.”

Ginny sighed, exasperated, while Harry glared at him.

“The point is,” Ginny said firmly, “the house was sitting here, empty, and you two needed wanted a place in London. So here it is. Draco’s graduation gift was the trip and ours is the house.”

Harry looked at Scorpius and Albus intently.

“Just to be sure… we win, right?”

Scorpius and Albus glanced at each other.

“I’m not answering that,” Albus said.

“Me either,” confirmed Scorpius.

Harry groaned.

“You’ll just have to live with the ambiguity, Potter,” Draco said.

As Harry and Draco started bickering, Ginny winked at them, and Ainsley pulled them back into the hallway to show off the rest of the rooms.

* * *

Draco was the last to leave, and when Scorpius and Albus sat on the sitting room couch after he disappeared into the fireplace, the silence was deafening. Scorpius felt a small sense of emptiness after his father was gone, even though he’d promised to come around for lunch the next day.

He didn’t live at the manor anymore, and that was going to take some time to get used to.

“They gave us a house,” Albus said finally.

“They gave us a house with a library. And a bunch of other rooms.”

“We’re never going to use all those rooms,” Albus said, shaking his head and staring blankly into the fire.

“I was planning on about a sixth of the size of this house,” Scorpius said. “ _Planning_ is a strong word, though. I wasn’t really sure…”

“How this was going to go?” Albus added weakly. “Me either. It never felt real until right now. Graduation or any of it.”

Scorpius looked at him nervously, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt.

“Did we make a mistake?”

“No,” Albus said firmly. “Do you think we did?”

Scorpius shook his head.

“No. If I stayed at the Manor after graduation, I’d never leave or learn how to take care of myself. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t waking up next to you all the time. Which is not something I would have expected I’d be saying to anyone at eighteen, but here we are.”

Albus smiled and took his hand. It seemed strangely intimate, holding hands with his boyfriend in their own sitting room. It wasn’t as exciting as exploring another city or as secretive as snogging at the back of the library. Instead, it was the quiet, confident notion that this was what life would be like for a while – steady and safe in a house that was theirs where Scorpius was surrounded by the things he and Albus loved.

“So this is home now.”

“This is home,” Albus confirmed. Scorpius rested his head against Albus’ shoulder and sat in silence for a moment, watching the flames flicker.

“I can’t believe they moved us out while they were gone, though,” Albus said after a moment.

“Highly unexpected,” Scorpius agreed, his eyelids getting heavy. “I think… well, I don’t think they wanted you to hurt yourself trying to move.”

Albus grumbled something indistinguishable, but clearly impolite.

Scorpius didn’t want to sleep yet – he was excited and he had to unpack from their trip. There were so many books upstairs and if he fell asleep now he’d surely have nightmares.

Albus knew better. He extracted himself carefully from the couch and pulled Scorpius to his feet.

“Come on. Bed.”

“But I’ve got things to do,” Scorpius protested uselessly. “There’s some books I haven’t read yet up there and I might not have time once we start working – “

“There will be time enough tomorrow,” Albus assured him. Scorpius sighed and extinguished the fire with a wave of his hand.

“Still creepy,” Albus assured him as Scorpius removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

“It’s been a long day,” Scorpius said, following Albus from the room.

“I’m exhausted. And I didn’t even do anything, really.”

It took Albus a few moments to remember how to get back to the master bedroom, but when they did find it, Scorpius was struck again by how surreal the day had been. He’d spent the better part of seven whole years sharing a dorm with Albus, but now they were in their house, and Scorpius looked around the room with wonder and a bit of fear.

“Ainsley and Draco did a good job,” Albus said, shrugging out of his shirt and jeans and tossing them into a hamper before collapsing into the massive bed.

“I can’t imagine how much all of this cost,” Scorpius wondered aloud as he searched all the drawers for a pair of pajamas. “All of the furniture looks new or restored.”

“But it kind of suits us,” Albus said. “Or you, at least. It was clearly your dad who picked out most of it.”

“He does have very specific tastes,” Scorpius agreed with a yawn. Once he’d changed, he crawled into the bed beside Albus. The surface was so big that he could spend the entire night tossing and turning and not even touch Albus, but instead of laying on opposite edges, they met in the middle and lay facing each other. The mattress drew Scorpius in, and he felt heavy, as if he’d taken a sleeping draught.

Still, he watched closely as Albus’ green eyes fluttered closed, try as he might to stay awake.

“Hey, Scorp?”

“Yeah?”

“We have a house.”

“We have a _home_.”

* * *

When Scorpius left for his first day as a junior fellow at the Magical Archives of Britain, he was full of excitement and optimism. This, he thought, was the perfect place for him to move on with his life. He’d always found history delightful, and surely being surrounded by those who felt the same way would be exciting.

It had started well enough. He’d arrived for orientation ten minutes early and introduced himself politely to the other twenty junior fellows from across Britain and the continent. Several young women from Beauxbatons and a few men from Durmstrang joined them, and Scorpius was pleased to find that his British counterparts found them far more interesting than last spring’s headlines. He attracted only a few awkward glances, but he’d hoped that was only because his name was Malfoy.

The director of their program had come in to welcome each and every one of them to the archives. Scorpius was thrilled to meet her - Mirabella Cinderford was a middle-aged witch who’d had moderate success with her books on muggle influence on wizarding society, though her work had suffered when a few pureblood _Prophet_ writers had called her series “unnecessary,” “incorrect,” and “scandalously detrimental to our youth.”

She’d led them on a tour of the archive, walking the group into the cavernous main room. Albus had assured Scorpius he’d love the Archives after visiting them last December, but his descriptions of the facility hadn’t done it justice. Five massive stories full of towering bookshelves had stretched out above him from the open atrium, and Scorpius was breathless.

It wasn’t until she sat them all down in one of the small lecture halls that things took a turn for the worse.

“Based on your resumes and the statements you provided, we’ve assigned you to your departments where you’ll work for at least the first six months,” Cinderford said. Scorpius considered the possibilities – he could help visitors find what they were looking for, or serve as a research assistant for some of the writers updating textbooks. He could even help with translation, assuming someone needed help with French or German. Maybe he’d get to help with the public exhibits in the small museum near the entrance – the possibilities were limitless.

Each of the positions Cinderford gave out as she went down the list sounded so exciting that he wasn’t worried at all about where he would wind up.

“Nicolette Laflèche, you will be working with Sir Collins on his most recent projects. He’ll meet you in the main atrium at noon.”

Nicolette seemed quite pleased and shared a grin with a fellow Beauxbatons graduate.

“Scorpius Malfoy – you serve as an organizational assistant in the archive basement,” Cinderford said.

“The basement?”

Scorpius realized he’d spoken out of turn immediately when she looked up at him over her spectacles. It was the same look Professor McGonagall had given him throughout first year when he’d excitedly offered answers without raising his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. The basement is where we reorganize all of the books and folios for re-shelving.”

“Oh.”

Scorpius sank down in his seat and tried not to think about how excellent all of the other assignments sounded.

No one else was assigned an organizational role, and when he finally got down to the basement, he envied them to the point of sickness.

The keeper of the basement archive was a crotchety old Squib by the name of Daniel Ware. Ware, who was barely able to move due to his advanced age, greeted Scorpius with a grunt and written list of tomes to retrieve.

“Sir, I have no idea where any of these would be,” Scorpius told him after a few minutes of searching. At first, he’d thought there was some kind of organizational system he simply didn’t understand, but he soon realized there was no reason to the lopsided towers of books, folios, and loose pieces of parchment scattered about the massive room.

“Me either,” grunted Ware from his desk as he reviewed an old ledger with a magnifying glass. “That’s why I’ve sent you to find them.”

Scorpius looked down at the list. Twenty titles in this disaster? It would take a week at best to find them all.

“Sir, this will take ages. There’s no organization.”

“Then I suggest you get started then. Off with you – I’m busy.”

Scorpius bit his tongue, taking several deep breaths before heading into the stacks. He had to stay calm. One spark in this place and he could burn the entire building to the ground.

* * *

Albus smiled up at the glass ceiling of the Magizoology Society’s main facility in London. All around him were magizoologists and assistants tending to various magical creatures. It was _loud_ \- full of human voices laughing and yelling and talking and of the calls of birds and roars of beasts in large cages along the walls.

The room was so bright and alive that it was hard to believe they were underground, not far from the tunnels and caves of Gringotts.

“As you can see,” the Director Cameron Wood said gleefully, “we’ve got a full house here right now! We get creatures from all around the world and study them, gather potions ingredients, and rehabilitate the ones that are injured.”

Director Wood was an older man with scars all over his arms and shoulders. It struck Albus immediately that no one was wearing robes, and he quickly learned why as he watched a manticore rip a keeper’s pants leg off within its pen.

“Oy!” the man cried, amused as he turned his wand on the beast, which bared its rows of razor-sharp teeth menacingly. He hit it with a harmless charm, and the manticore sat down sleepily, subdued, so the team could bandage its leg.

Albus grinned in delight.

“Now, all our team directors have seen your resumes and they’ve selected their victims – I mean, new members –“ Wood grinned mischievously as the group chortled. “So you’ll have a place to start, but you’re not stuck there. I expect you all to move around and explore until you find what you want to specialize in.”

Albus looked around at his group – a mixture of older wizards and recent graduates from across Europe and America. He’d overheard some of them chatting about how far they’d come just to work here at one of the premiere magizooligy facilities in the world, and he felt fortunate once again that he was able to come here while still being close to his family.

Albus looked around again. The main hall reminded him immediately of the British Natural History museum, except louder and far more dangerous, which he liked.

Some of the department heads were approaching the group, and Albus leaned into his cane, already aching. He’d seen an older witch with crutches working with some bowtruckles off to the side earlier, and saw that she was missing a leg (most likely, he knew, from a creature-related encounter), so he was hopeful that his condition wouldn’t impede his work.

What Albus noticed most of all as he waited for someone to come retrieve him, was that everyone looked content. He watched as a middle-aged wizard carried a niffler across the room, playing with it as he went, and thought of the baby dragon in Mirto.

“Hey! You’re Potter, right?”

Albus looked around to see who’d called his name and found a grizzled, white-haired man pointing at him with a grin. He was missing a few teeth and his shirt had a very obvious burn mark on it that looked pretty fresh, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes.”

“Charlie Weasley’s nephew?”

For Albus’ entire life, each time someone had asked if he was a Potter, the question had been followed with some variation of “like, _Harry Potter_?” He stared at the man, stunned at the change of script, for a moment longer than he should have.

“Magorian Smith,” the man said, offering his hand, which Albus shook readily. “I worked with Charlie several years ago – couldn’t find a finer dragon keeper anywhere. Picked you m’self for the rehab unit.”

“That sounds great!” Albus answered eagerly as three more of his cohort was drawn away by the conservation specialist.

“Right, then. Come along,” Smith said, ushering Albus from the group.

“You’re not getting anyone else?”

“Nah,” Smith said with a wave of his hand, and Albus noticed he was missing part of one finger. “Didn’t really need anyone else in the unit, to be honest, but I couldn’t let one of Charlie’s kin slip past.”

Albus grinned as they walked down a corridor off the main hall despite the growing ache in his joints. He’d never been recognized for being related to anyone except for Harry (save for once or twice at Quidditch-related events where his mother was the main attraction).

“Well, thank you sir,” Albus said. “I hope I live up to his standard.”

“Aye, I’m sure you will.”

Smith shouldered open a large door where the corridor split, and Albus found himself in a disastrous room with about ten other wizards and witches all trying to subdue, bandage, or comfort various creatures.

Albus took it all in and watched as one witch wrangled a particularly large fire crab with a range of stunning spells.

“I said hold still!” she yelled at it. “I’m trying to help you!”

A wizard approached, wand drawn, to help with an unconscious kneazle dangling from his arm. Between the two of them, they herded the crab into a cage and slammed it shut.

“Too much for you, boy?” Smith asked Albus, who wasn’t entirely sure his grin could get any wider.

“This is _perfect_.”

* * *

“Whoa, are you okay?”

Scorpius leaped from his place on the couch when Albus stumbled in through the fireplace. He’d barely gotten a chance to sit down, and his head was aching from rummaging around all day in the dusty dark stacks of the archive, but Albus was clearly in pain, though he had a smile on his face.

“I’m alright,” Albus said as Scorpius helped him to the sofa. “It’ll just take some getting used to.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Albus said with a wave of his hand, resting his cane against the nearby end table. “I was just walking around all day. It’ll be fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine,” Scorpius muttered. Albus leaned back on the arm of the sofa, facing him, with a contented smile on his face.

“The zoo is amazing.”

“The archives are terrible.” 

“What?” Albus cried, aghast. “No, I was there. All those books and people talking about history and writing even more books? That’s your dream.”

“It is,” Scorpius agreed sadly. “Most of it is wonderful. But we got assignments for where we’re working and I was put in the basement where they keep this mess of old books and folios and papers that don’t belong anywhere else. It’s where they organize items coming back so they can be returned where they belong, and – “

“It’s like you’re at Flourish and Blotts,” Albus said angrily.

“Well, kind of. Yes. Except far messier and… angrier.”

Scorpius looked down at his hands, rolling his wand in between his fingers.

“Well, maybe it’s temporary?” Albus said hopefully. “And maybe you can have fun with the others you’ve been put down there with. They’re all your age – right? Maybe it’s a rite of passage?”

Scorpius shook his head.

“It was only me. Everyone else got research assistantships or they’re working in the proper archive and in the museum.”

“I don’t understand,” Albus groaned. “You’re brilliant.”

“I think I do,” Scorpius said slowly. “They’d accepted me before… _everything_ earlier this year. I think they’re afraid of me now.”

“Well, I’m sure Aunt Hermione would _love_ to do something about this,” Albus said, snatching Scorpius’ wand. A few harmless green sparks showered from it. “I’ll just call for her, and - “

“You’ll do no such thing!” Scorpius squeaked, snatching his wand back. “I can’t have everyone else fighting my battles for me. You and dad don’t even think I can take care of myself.”

“But it’s discrimination!”

Scorpius laughed darkly. “Discrimination? Against a Malfoy? Sure. _Everyone_ will believe that.”

“Well, you’re hardly just a Malfoy anymore,” Albus said. “Everyone knows you’re also… well, you’re a part of my family too! And we’re not used to letting our own be abused.”

“I’ll disagree with that immediately and refer you to our first four years at Hogwarts,” Scorpius reminded him. “No. I’ll just have to see this through.”

“It’s stupid,” Albus pouted, folding his arms, exposing a fresh, shiny burn on his forearm.

“Oh, Al,” Scorpius moaned, snatching his hand so he could examine it. “What did you do?”

“Blast-Ended Skrewt,” Albus admitted. “One of Rubeus Hagrid’s more interesting ideas.”

Scorpius shook his head and let Albus stretch his legs out across his lap. He ran his hands across Albus’ bad leg, using a bit of magic to heat his palms before absently rubbing the sore muscles – the only thing it seemed he could do to help. Scorpius often wondered if it soothed Albus at all, or if it was just a good excuse for them to sit quietly and talk.

“That feels good,” Albus admitted, relaxing into the couch. He looked exhausted.

“How was your day?”

“It was great until I found your day was bad,” Albus confessed. Scorpius smiled a bit to himself. There was something to be said for Albus’ Potter-protectiveness.

“Someone Uncle Charlie worked with pulled me into the rehabilitation unit, and I quite like it. I didn’t get to do much since it’s a confusing madhouse, but I got to help fix a doxy’s wing and I helped wrangle the skrewt ‘round the end of the day.”

“Is that how you hurt your leg?”

“No,” Albus admitted. “It hurt well before that. It’s a big place.”

Scorpius looked up at him, concerned, and saw that Albus had his eyes closed.

“Are you going to be able to do this job, Al?”

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and Scorpius knew he was falling asleep.

“Everyone who’s been there a while is a little beat up,” Albus said. “I’m just coming in with a head start.”

He gave a hearty yawn and Scorpius’ hands went still. The only time Albus looked his age now was when he wasn’t worried about anything – and that didn’t seem to be often. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since graduation, and the entire spring term had been such a blur of sleepless nights and long days of revisions that Scorpius only remembered bits and pieces, and most of those pieces had been Albus taking care of him.

Freya leapt up onto the back of the couch, purring at Scorpius until he reached up and scratched behind her ears.

“You don’t think I’m evil, do you, Freya?” he asked. She looked at him expectantly with her crystal-blue eyes. “Are you here to comfort me because I had a bad day?”

Freya continued staring at him, her tail swishing back and forth.

“You’re only here because you want me to feed you, aren’t you?”

_Meow_.

“Lovely.”

Scorpius carefully slid out from under Albus’ legs and watched as he responded, curling up with his face against the back of the couch. After scooping Freya up, Scorpius went into the kitchen and started scrounging about for dinner.

* * *

“What the hell did you do?”

Albus limped into the kitchen to find Scorpius standing helplessly, wand in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, with pasta sauce covering his shirt, his ruined waistcoat draped over one of the counter stools.

“I don’t know,” Scorpius said, looking at the mess around the kitchen in surprise. “I was trying to make the spaghetti sauce and something just went wrong.”

Albus couldn’t even tell what some of the mess was at this point, and he took the dripping spoon from Scorpius’ hand gently and set it on the counter.

“Have you ever actually cooked anything, Scorp?”

Scorpius shook his head, looking down at him, somewhere between ashamed and embarrassed. Albus couldn’t help but smile.

“Were you trying to use magic to speed it along?”

He nodded and looked down at his clothes.

“I was trying to make it the way you did last week since all of the stuff was here,” Scorpius said, flustered. “And I cut everything up and it was fine, but I was trying to cook it and…”

He waved his arms wildly to indicate the mess. Albus took Scorpius’ wand gently from his hands and, within a few moments, had most of the disaster cleaned up.

“How did you do that?”

“Mum taught us all the household-y spells we’d need,” Albus said. “I only ever had to use them at home, but with both mum and dad working, we did a lot of things around the house.”

“Oh.”

Scorpius shuffled his feet, and Albus examined the damage to his clothes. The trousers could be salvaged, but his white shirt was ruined.

“Maybe I should do the cooking,” Albus said, sitting on the counter. “At least for now.”

“Your leg was bothering you,” Scorpius muttered. “I was just trying to help.”

Albus tugged at his sleeve until he looked up. Scorpius’ eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look even more like his father.

“It’s okay,” Albus assured him. “You’ll learn.”

Scorpius nodded, though he clearly didn’t believe him, and Albus pulled him closer until he gave in and rested his head against Albus’ shoulder.

“I can’t do anything right,” Scorpius muttered, muffled.

“It was one bad day, love,” Albus said, smoothing his hair down and holding him close. “Tomorrow will be better.”

“Can we go back on vacation, please?” Scorpius asked. “Not even the walking around and going to museums part. Let’s go back to the eating and taking naps part.”

“Oh, we can’t do that,” Albus said, trying his best to sound soothing. It wasn’t easy – sometimes he didn’t know what Scorpius needed, and he wanted so desperately for him to just be happy. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to spend your whole life relying on the Malfoy vault.”

“I take that back,” Scorpius said. “I’ll lay around all day and read. I’ll be a hermit.”

“You’d make a terrible hermit,” Albus said. “Do you remember what you said when we went back to Hogwarts in January?”

Scorpius pulled back and looked at him, resting his hands on Albus’ knees.

“That if I hide, they win.”

“Exactly,” Albus said. “And if I don’t do what I want to do, Daphne gets what she wanted – to ruin our lives.”

Scorpius cringed at the sound of his aunt’s name, and Albus studied his face carefully until Scorpius looked up at him and met his gaze.

“I just don’t want to be the Son of Voldemort anymore,” Scorpius said. “And I hate seeing you in pain. It hurts me too.”

“I’ll manage,” Albus assured him, stroking the back of his hand softly with his thumb. “And the best thing we can do is be great at the things we wanted to do. I’m going to save some magical creatures and you’re going to be an excellent historian and show everyone that they’re wrong about you.”

Scorpius nodded, clearly doubtful.

“Now… I think we’re better off just having soup – don’t you?”

* * *

Later that night, Albus lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He should have been thinking about many things – about his day at the zoo, the doxy he’d healed, the dragon he’d heard down a disserted corridor, or even his boyfriend’s disastrous attempt at cooking.

Instead, Albus found himself thinking about his father.

All his life, Albus had simply accepted the timeline of his parents’ lives. Harry had been seventeen when he’d defeated Voldemort – nearly the exact same age Albus was now. Albus remembered Harry mentioning once how lost he’d felt afterwards with no Hogwarts to return to and no real home. He remembered his mother saying she hadn’t known what to do with her whole life rent apart so young.

Albus listened to Scorpius breathing and he thought about the house he’d been given. He thought about the friends he’d be inviting over soon, and all of the possibilities that lay in front of him, and he thought of where he’d been only a year ago – spending the summer at home with his parents and siblings, shuffling between his house and the Malfoy Manor and filling his days with flying and listening to Scorpius read.

He’d had it far easier than his dad, and yet he felt very old.

Beside him, Scorpius twitched in his sleep, his long body curled around a pillow, snoring lightly. Albus watched him for a long time until he was sure the twitch was just a twitch and not a nightmare. He stretched out, painfully aware of each stiff joint in his left leg, and hoped that someday soon he’d feel his age again.

Seventeen was starting to feel more like forty.


	3. Forgotten

As summer expired, Scorpius found the only way to maintain his sanity was to focus on anything except work when he wasn’t at the archives. The long days he spent forgotten in the archive basement all bled together and reminded him entirely too much of a certain dungeon unless he punctuated his days with books and films and time with his friends and family.

He’d taken on the task of imposing some order on the archive basement, which was proving to be an extreme challenge. Once he started examining the items, he realized why they’d never been filed – the task seemed insurmountable at best, but when no one was looking, Scorpius was able to move entire stacks of books while he searched for specific items from Ware’s lists until he had them at least in organized mountains.

“One day at a time,” he told himself one day as Ware chastised him for making too much noise.

Scorpius came home one evening, irked that he was covered in multiple layers of dust but too distracted to do much about it. He was starving, and Albus had promised him they would start on a collection of classic muggle films borrowed from Grandpa Weasley.

“Scorp! We’re in here!” Albus called from the kitchen.

Scorpius groaned. Company was not what he’d planned on.

He entered the room to find Albus, clad in an old t-shirt and jeans with a fresh bandage on his arm, with Ainsley, who was sitting on one of the counter stools.

“What’s going on here?” Scorpius asked, stepping near the stove only to give Albus a quick kiss before backing away and joining Ainsley. He wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed near cooking-related activities yet.

Albus smiled at him, using his wand to flip burgers over in the pan.

“I just decided to drop by,” Ainsley said, fiddling with a quill left on the counter uncertainly. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is!” Scorpius told her, shedding his robes and vest quickly and tossing them onto a chair. Out of sight, out of mind. “Is everything alright?”

“Back to Hogwarts in a few days,” she reminded him. By the look on her face, Scorpius knew she wasn’t thrilled about the idea.

“It’s only a few months,” Scorpius told her. “This time next year you will have graduated. And you’ll be home for Christmas before you know it.”

Ainsley didn’t look at him. She didn’t have to say it – Scorpius understood. There wasn’t a place left for her that really felt like home. He sat on the stool beside her and leaned on the counter, holding her hand for a moment. Scorpius had learned that sometimes, Ainsley just needed to be silent, so they watched Albus slowly pull dinner together.

Watching Albus cook had become one of Scorpius’ favorite things for a few reasons. Since the Malfoys had always employed House Elves, Scorpius had never really considered how much effort and attention went into making a decent meal, and at Hogwarts he’d never really paid much attention, despite spending time down in the kitchens.

Albus had always told him cooking was the only thing he’d liked doing with his father as a kid, and Scorpius knew it had been the activity he’d picked up again the summer after forth year when he’d made a concerted effort to repair his relationship with Harry. He’d watched the two of them make meals together last summer, but there was something about the calm, confident Albus he saw in the kitchen that made Scorpius melt just a little bit inside. He put a considerable amount of effort into each meal, even if it was just the two of them.

“So how’s James?” Ainsley asked. Albus glanced over his shoulder at her.

“James is good,” Albus said. “I had lunch with him yesterday. He was asking about you.”

“Oh,” Ainsley muttered. She seemed very interested in a particularly ordinary quill, and Albus looked at Scorpius with a small smirk. Scorpius asked the question his cousin wouldn’t, even though he already knew the answer.

“And what was he asking, Albus?”

“Oh, the usual,” Albus said airily. “How is Ainsley? Has Ainsley mentioned me? Can you remind Ainsley that the three years between our ages is nothing once you’re out of Hogwarts?”

Scorpius noticed Ainsley’s cheeks had gone a bit pink as she plucked the barbs of the feather apart.

“I’m not going to get in the middle of it or tell you what to do,” Albus began as he folded the hamburger patties into their buns. “But I will tell you that this is the longest James has been single since he was fourteen, and that he’s not continuing to ask you out because you’re playing hard to get.”

Ainsley protested as Albus placed their plates in front of them. Scorpius took a deep breath. It smelled amazing.

“I’m not playing anything!”

“And that’s fine. I just want you to know that there’s only a handful of people that my brother decides to care about are few and far between. James only has a few friends and most of them are in my family. I know he’s got a reputation, and he worked damn hard to earn it. Just things to consider.”

Ainsley nodded as Albus limped to his seat, gripping the counter as he moved. Scorpius noticed he wasn’t even trying to mask the pain.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah – it was just a really busy day and I was moving around a lot.”

Scorpius watched as Albus pulled himself into his seat, cringing.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ainsley asked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help cook.”

“It’s okay. Neither you or Scorpius ever had to learn,” Albus said, starting to eat.

“This is amazing,” Ainsley said through a mouthful of food. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“My dad,” Albus answered. “And I started doing some reading last summer and learned a bit.”

“That’s my doing,” Scorpius said proudly. "Albus didn’t like to read before but I finally broke him down.”

Albus smiled at him over the top of Ainsley’s head while she ate.

“Albus told me how work is going for him, but I’ve barely seen you,” Ainsley said to Scorpius. “How are the archives?”

Scorpius took a sip of Albus’ pumpkin juice, thinking before answering. He and Ainsley had only just started being friends before she was torn from her old life and dropped into his family, but she’d always been empathetic. He didn’t want to upset her, but on the other hand, he’d had a particularly horrible day.

“I’m actually in the basement where the keep everything that they can’t fit upstairs,” Scorpius told her. “So I’m basically just kind of organizing things and finding things the historians need.”

Ainsley looked up at chewing slowly.

“That’s stupid,” she said, swallowing. “You’re brilliant.”

“I think it’s temporary,” Scorpius said lightly. Albus scowled at him from behind her head. “I’m pretty sure – well, I know for a fact that they’re just afraid of me after last winter.”

Ainsley groaned and tossed the rest of her burger back onto her plate.

“Is this ever going to go away?” she asked.

“I highly doubt it,” Albus grumbled. “And what do you mean you _know_? Did someone say something to you?”

“I may have overheard part of a conversation today at lunch,” Scorpius admitted. “I was right when I said the Auror’s office report would fuel the ‘Son of Voldemort’ theory again.”

Having explosive powers, it seemed, was not a good way to ingratiate yourself to the wizarding community.

“But you’re easily one of the nicest people I know,” Ainsley said. “If not _the_ nicest person I know. And I’m in _Hufflepuff_.”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius assured her, picking at his chips. “It’s just going to take time for everyone to move on. The _Prophet_ just needs to find some new sensational headlines.”

“I’ll owl my dad,” Albus said. “See if he can find another dark lord to defeat.”

“That would be helpful, thanks.”

Albus smirked at him, and Scorpius looked down at Ainsley, who was looking rather sullen.

“Things will get better,” Scorpius assured her. “I promise.”

* * *

On September 1, Albus took an early lunch and Floo’d over to King’s Cross where he met Harry, Ginny and Lily on Platform 9 ¾. He eyed Lily with a bit of envy as he approached, spotting his old racing broom strapped to her back as Hugo and Ron joined them.

“Albus! You’re here!” Lily cried when she spotted him. As she threw her arms around his neck, he saw she was wearing the necklace he’d brought back for her from Mirto.

“Of course I am,” Albus said as she released him. “You’re headed off for your sixth year. Had to come remind you how old you are.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and Albus wiped a smudge off the broomstick handle with his thumb.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” she said carefully. “Yours was faster, and I had one of the slowest ones on the team already. I would have asked, but it was a last-minute thing.”

“It’s fine,” Albus assured her, even though it stung a bit. “I would have given it to you anyway if I’d thought of it.”

Lily wrapped her arms around his waist again, burying her face in his chest.

“Everything okay?” Albus asked, patting her back. Lily’s friends were calling for her, but she didn’t move.

“Yep,” Lily said, nodding. She didn’t let go. “It’s just the first time I’ll be at Hogwarts without you or James.”

James appeared at Albus’ side.

“And think of how much trouble you can get into without knowing we’ll write to mum.”

Lily squealed and embraced her oldest brother. It was clear she hadn’t been expecting either of them, and Albus caught his parents’ eyes as she watched the three of them. They were proud.

“I didn’t think you were going to be here.”

“Of course I am,” James said. He withdrew a Weasley’s Wizards Bag and handed it to her. “Couldn’t send you off without the necessary school supplies.”

“James, that’s entirely unnecessary,” Ginny moaned. Lily grinned and accepted it gratefully.

“I will put it to good use.”

“Just not on Hugo,” Albus reminded her. “Remember last time…”

Lily shivered. “Not on Hugo.”

Draco, Scorpius and Ainsley appeared behind Ginny, and Albus grinned as they approached.

“I didn’t think you could get away,” he called to Scorpius, but the look on his boyfriend’s face gave him pause.

“It’s not like anyone’s going to notice I’m gone,” Scorpius mumbled. Draco didn’t look happy either, but Ainsley’s face brightened as soon as she spotted James.

“And now we know why James showed up,” Lily muttered from between her brothers.

“Oh, shut up,” James grumbled. “I came to see you. This is just a perk.”

Albus leaned on a nearby column as Scorpius greeted everyone briefly, holding his hand out as he approached. Scorpius accepted it gratefully, clearly too immersed in whatever had happened to notice the stares and whispers he was attracting.

“What’s wrong?” Albus asked.

“Nothing new,” Scorpius said. “I was just delivering some books to someone earlier and overheard a conversation with the director mentioning that perhaps the Malfoy boy would be better suited to a position somewhere else.”

“Seriously, my Aunt Hermione is _right there_ ,” Albus said, indignant. He pointed at Hermione, who was busy checking that Hugo had everything he needed. “Please let her know. You don’t even have to ask her to do anything – she’d be _grateful_. She _loves_ to fix civil injustices. And Uncle Ron isn’t even here to calm him down.”

“No,” Scorpius protested, shaking his head. The fight was gone from his voice, and Albus pictured going to the archives himself. He’d yelled at a Ministry official before – a group of academics couldn’t be much different.

At a loss, Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius’ waist and drew him close as Ginny took notice of Scorpius’ slumped shoulders.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, coming closer.

Scorpius shrugged and Ginny pursed her lips.

“Come over for supper tonight,” she insisted. “Let Harry make you a home cooked meal.”

“Hey!” Albus cried. “I cook all the time.”

“It’s different when parents do it, and you know it.”

Scorpius nodded with a sad smile while Albus grumbled about his cooking being perfectly adequate.

“We’ll be there.”

Ginny smiled and ruffled his hair. Albus knew she was the only person who could get away with doing it, and Scorpius gave her a hollow laugh.

“Draco – Scorpius and Albus are going to come over for dinner. You should come over too.”

Draco glanced at Scorpius as he always did when the Potters invited him somewhere. Scorpius gave a quick nod, and Draco agreed.

“That sounds lovely, Ginny.”

“He’s always so formal,” Albus said with a crooked smile. “It’s like you without all the bad puns and dorkiness.”

 _Finally_ , Albus thought as he watched Scorpius. _An actual smile. It’s been days._

 

\--

Ainsley watched as James secured her trunk in the Hogwarts Express’ cargo hold alongside Lily’s. The youngest Potter said a hasty goodbye to him as her friends pulled her away, and James barely stood up quick enough to kiss her on the cheek before she disappeared.

“She’s never still,” James commented, bending back down to adjust the straps.

“I think it’s okay,” Ainsley said. “It’s new anyway so the lock should hold.”

“We started being careful with the trunks in Albus’ third year,” James told her as he closed the compartment. “He and Scorpius sometimes didn’t make it to Hogwarts with all the things they’d packed, and…”

James didn’t have to finish his sentence. Ainsley could feel parents’ and students’ eyes on her back as the whistle blew from the front of the train.

“I guess I best be going then,” Ainsley said, tugging at her sleeves. With his hands in his pockets and that silly smile on his face, James didn’t seem quite as tall and imposing.

“You said goodbye to everyone?”

“Yeah. Draco seemed like he was in a hurry anyway. I think he wanted to get Scorpius out of here.”

“I can see that,” James said, staring down a first year who seemed very interested in Ainsley.

“Well, I hope work doesn’t keep you too busy,” Ainsley said with a smile. “Seems like you’ve been there a lot lately.”

“My uncle is looking at stepping back from his position, so he’s got us all working overtime until he does,” James explained. Ainsley didn’t know what to say, so she looked down at her shoes, suddenly very reluctant to go back to Hogwarts at all. She’d been dreading it all summer, soaking up the quiet afternoons and dinners with various friends. Even Draco had started acting more comfortable around her, and now she had to leave it all behind.

“I’ll see you at Christmas?”

“Right! Christmas,” Ainsley said nervously. “Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Maybe you could meet me in Hogsmeade sometime this term? If you have time – “

“Just tell me when and where, Ainsley,” James said with a relieved chuckle. His eyes crinkled around the corners, and she smiled even more. “I’ll do my best.”

The train whistle blew again and Ainsley cringed.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Have a good term, okay? And don’t believe anything they say,” he said, nodding to the train.

Ainsley hesitated for a moment, still staring up at him. The train was going to leave any second now and who knew when she’d see a friendly face besides Lily and Hugo again?

Wordlessly, she jumped towards him stood on her toes to hug him. She felt James hesitate for the briefest moment before hugging her back.

“Be careful out there,” she said softly.

“You too,” he said, giving her one last squeeze before letting her down. Without thinking about it or considering the consequences, she kissed his cheek before backing up, blushing just a bit and tucking her hair nervously behind her ear.

“See you soon,” he said, grinning – not the wolfish grin he had when he was up to something, or the sarcastic smile she’d gotten used to when he was joking with his family. It was a real, genuine James Potter smile, which she realized now was a rare and powerful thing.

“See you soon,” she agreed before jumping on the train and disappearing.

It took James a moment to register the movement to his side. When he looked through the nearest compartment window, Lily, Hugo and Louis had their hands pressed against the glass and were making exaggerated kissing gestures at him.

“I hate you all,” he said, loud enough that they could hear through the glass. He pointed at their faces as the train jerked into motion. “Be expecting my Howlers.”

* * *

Scorpius stood behind Albus’ chair at the Potters’ kitchen table as Harry tried to cook despite Ginny’s best efforts to help.

“Ginny, please,” Harry implored her. “Just go have a drink with the others.”

“But I wanted to help.”

“Mum, leave him be,” Albus grumbled. Scorpius bent over and wrapped his arms around Albus’ shoulders, momentarily hiding his face against his neck as Ginny resigned to leaning on the counter with her glass of wine.

“I wish we were going back to Hogwarts,” Scorpius muttered.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” Albus admitted, tugging at his arm until Scorpius relented and sat in the seat across from him. “Still not feeling better at work?”

Scorpius shook his head before taking a sip of Albus’ Butterbeer.

“No. It’s making me miserable – being trapped down there all day. I have found some fascinating books, though. Apparently we have an entire section of old scrolls in Chinese that were never cataloged and some ancient-looking American records, though I have no idea how we got them.”

“You _would_ find that fascinating,” Albus said fondly. In the somewhat harsh light of the kitchen, Albus looked as pale and drawn as Scorpius felt. Draco sank into the chair next to him.

“It just…. Well, it feels like a dungeon.”

Albus’ eyes flickered up to Draco’s. Suddenly, a depressing job became infinitely more.

“I’m more than happy to purchase a new wing for the archive if it gets you out of there,” Draco said firmly. “They can call it the Malfoy-Greengrass Wing.”

“That’s precisely what I don’t want you to do,” Scorpius told him. “I know I don’t have to have a job. If I wanted to get by on my last name, I wouldn’t have to work.”

“So why are you doing this to yourself?” Draco asked. “You’re miserable.”

“I’m not miserable. I happen to currently have a bad position at a place I want to be. I’m sure I’ll find a way out of it. I’ve already started reorganizing the entire basement – partially because I want someone to notice that I’m good at it, partially because I want to see what I can find down there, but mostly because I can’t stand to see books in that state.”

“It’s a shame you can’t feel that way about our house,” Albus mumbled. Ginny looked at him over the rim of her glass, quizzical. “Scorpius is rubbish at anything domestic. He nearly set the kitchen on fire.”

Scorpius cringed at the memory.

“One time.”

“One time is all it takes,” Albus reminded him. “You don’t have to be miserable.”

“I will go buy Flourish and Blotts if it’s books you want,” Draco said dismissively. “You can run the store – “

“That’s not going to fix it,” Harry interjected. “Scorpius – and correct me if I’m wrong – just wants to be judged on his actual merits instead of the things that have happened to him or that have been said about him.”

Scorpius looked over at Harry, who was absently stirring the beef stew while looking at them. Of all the people he thought would understand, Harry hadn’t been at the top of the list.

“Thank you,” Scorpius said slowly. “That’s exactly it.”

Harry smiled at him warmly, and not for the first time, Scorpius knew he was looking at precisely what Albus would look like in twenty years.

Draco and Albus sat in disgruntled silence while Ginny and Harry filled the silence with idle chatter about work and James’ decision to move into Bill’s old condo in Diagon Alley.

“Is James doing well?” Draco asked.

“He seems to be,” Harry said. “He likes his job quite a bit, though I think he hates being away several days a week, though.”

“And is he doing well outside work?”

Draco swirled his wine around in its glass while Ginny eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“If my only child is living with your son, I think I’m allowed to have an interest in the stability of your family,” Draco said.

“He’s asking because of Ainsley,” Scorpius clarified with a smirk. “He knows James likes her.”

“To be fair, I would have done a more thorough investigation on Albus if I had known you two were going to be together _before_ you were actually together.”

“ _Did_ you do a thorough investigation on my sons?” Ginny asked, setting a bowl of beef stew in front of each of them. It smelled lovely, and Scorpius was starting to associate all of the Potters – Albus included – with the smell of warm food.

“Perhaps.”

“So you _did_ do a background check on me!” Albus cried.

“Yes, I did,” Draco replied. “And I find your early Transfiguration grades to be troubling. Please don’t use any of those spells in your home.”

Albus stared at him, uncertain.

“I’m joking, Albus,” Draco said flatly.

“How would we know?” Harry muttered as he sat down.

“Dad has an excellent sense of humor,” Scorpius said, perfectly serious. He watched as each of the Potters turned and looked at him.

“That was also a joke,” he said with a grin, and everyone laughed except Draco.

* * *

While Albus debated the finer points of Rubeus Hagrid’s historic insanity where magical creatures were concerned with his parents, Draco took the opportunity to draw his son into the Potters’ sitting room.

“It’s great, because Albus genuinely liked Hagrid when he was a kid, but they’ve got these Blast-Ended Skrewts and he hates them,” Scorpius rambled. “He complains about them every night.”

“That’s nice,” Draco said absently, settling into the sofa beside Scorpius, who eyed him expectantly.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have that face like you’re about to talk to me about something uncomfortable,” Scorpius said. “It’s the face you made when you told me mum was dying and when you gave me ‘the talk’ and both are occasions I’d rather forget.”

“I guess ‘the talk’ was particularly useless, wasn’t it?” Draco said nervously. Scorpius blushed at the memory.

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

Draco sat on the edge of his seat, leaning forward to make sure he had Scorpius’ attention. His father had eased in recent years, but the formal, overbearing posture set Scorpius on edge.

“Oh, Merlin. Are you _dying?_ ”

“What?”

“A couple years ago you said something about making sure I would be fine when you were gone,” Scorpius said quickly, his eyes wide and his heart racing. “And I didn’t think anything of it at the time but I didn’t exactly forget it either – how could I? Dad, if you’re dying, we have to figure – “

“I’m not dying, Scorpius,” Draco cut him off. “I’m in perfect health, I assure you.”

“Oh, good,” Scorpius said, sinking into the corner. “Because with the way my luck’s been going this year – “

“Scorpius.” Draco held up his hand to silence him, and Scorpius quickly closed his mouth. “I wanted to know what you think of Dania.”

“ _Dania_? What do you mean?”

“Do you like her?”

“Sure, she’s great,” Scorpius said. “And she seems to make you happy, so that makes me happy.”

“I’m… relieved to hear that,” Draco said. He looked up at Scorpius his heart did something strange in his chest, but he wasn’t sure why. Draco looked so worried that Scorpius’ mind sped up, calculating all the horrible things Draco could be trying to tell him, and he realized quickly as Draco smiled that maybe it wasn’t a horrible thing at all.

“Scorpius,” Draco began gently. “Would you be okay with her living in the Manor?”

Scorpius looked at him, baffled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that you feel would be disrespecting your mother’s memory.”

“This isn’t about me,” Scorpius said quickly. “It’s not. It’s about you, and it’s about Dania, and it’s about what makes you happy. And mum made it very clear that she wanted you to move on.”

Draco stared at him as if he hadn’t expected Scorpius’ reaction, but what else could he say? There was nothing else in the world he wanted more than to see his father happy after so many years of mourning. Dania had made him smile, and she’d been nothing but kind and supportive of Scorpius and respectful of Astoria’s place in their lives.

If Draco was going to be with anyone, Dania was as close to perfect as Scorpius could hope for.

“Dad, I think it’s brilliant. Really. Is there anything I can do? Merlin, are you going to _marry_ her? Because that’s okay – I’m very good at planning things, you know, and Ainsley has quite the eye for decorations. We’d just need some time. I’m sure we could – why are you laughing?”

Draco looked at him with an amused, lopsided smile as he chuckled.

“I haven’t even asked her if she’d like to live together yet,” Draco told him. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“She’ll say yes,” Scorpius said confidently. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“She cares for you too, Scorpius,” Draco reminded him. “And she knows we’re a package deal.”

“Don’t forget Ainsley.”

“I could never forget Ainsley,” Draco sighed. He relaxed, as if a weight was taken off of his chest. Scorpius watched as he leaned back, uncoiling. “It was actually quite difficult watching her go today. It was nice having her around this summer, especially when you were both at the manor.”

“I hope they’re not giving her too tough a time,” Scorpius admitted.

“She’ll write to us if something is wrong,” Draco assured him. “I made her promise.”

Scorpius appreciated it, but something told him she was less likely to write to them and more likely to call upon James, who may or may not storm the castle to hex any bullies himself.

“Is Albus okay?” Draco asked quietly. The Potters’ voices were still safely in the kitchen, but his eyes darted toward the doorway regardless.

“I think so. Why?”

“He looks a bit unwell,” Draco commented. “A little pale. Perhaps it’s just work.”

“He’s been tired a lot,” Scorpius confirmed. “He’s adjusting. We both are.”

“Scorpius, he looks… well, he nearly looks like he did when you were missing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but Albus and his parents walked into the room, and Draco was quickly dragged into retelling his encounter with Buckbeak the Hippogriff. It was an embarrassing tale, and he laughed self-consciously through most of it.

Albus sat down at Scorpius’ side, attempting to mask a grimace, and Scorpius took his hand quickly and held onto it. He had more happiness for Draco than he thought he could bear, and wanted to share it with his second family, but it wasn’t his story to tell, and Draco, it seemed, only sought validation from Scorpius.

Albus listened intently as Harry and Ginny told them more about Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures classes, and Scorpius sat quietly, looking between them all and feeling just a little bit lost in their laughter, and even though he was thrilled at the idea of his father being in the kind of stable, committed relationship he deserved, he couldn’t get his Astoria’s face out of his head.

He wondered how long it would take to stop feeling like a lost boy without a mother.

* * *

Ainsley settled into an empty spot at the long Hufflepuff table amidst the other seventh years. She’d spent most of the ride on the Hogwarts Express sitting quietly in the corner of Lily, Hugo, and Louis’ compartment while they chattered about Quidditch and classes and going home for Teddy and Victoire’s wedding in October. It was good, she thought, to have people to listen to, but she very rarely knew what to say to any of the Potters or Weasleys.

She looked around the table at her classmates, smiling at them and wondering how their summer breaks were, but as each of them met her eyes they quickly looked away, not unlike the rest of the semester following her mother’s trial.

“Hey, Sara!”

Ainsley called to her roommate, who was sitting a few seats over. Sara, who had been busy examining her yellow and black nail polish, looked over at Ainsley.

“Oh. Hello, Ainsley.”

Ainsley noticed that she didn’t smile. She didn’t look angry – no one in her house was particularly hot-tempered or irritable. Ainsley watched as she looked down again quickly, overly interested in her nails (which Ainsley noticed matched her blue-black hair brilliantly).

Sara looked worried.

Ainsley looked to her other side and spotted Casey Murphy – a sixth year who was more likely to be spotted playing games with the younger students when they were down than doing his own homework.

“Casey! How was your summer?”

“Oh! Oh, it was fine,” Casey said, startled. “It was great. How was yours?”

“It was really nice,” Ainsley said, encouraged. “Did you go anywhere? Do anything exciting?”

“Erm… no. Not really,” he said. “I was at home with my grandmother mostly…”

Ainsley watched, helpless, as he let his attention be drawn toward one of his roommates, his shoulders hunched and his expression more than uncomfortable.

 _They don’t hate me,_ Ainsley thought, looking at her housemates. _They just don’t know what to do about me. They’re scared._

Ainsley looked down at her hands as Professor McGonagall began to address the students. Where she would have normally found the Headmistress’ voice comforting, it only reminded her now how far away she was from the few people who cared about her. Even the clear night sky and floating candles held no enchantment for her.

 _I wish Scorpius and Albus were still here,_ she thought sadly, looking over at the Slytherin table where their places would be filled with bright-eyed first years.

Throughout the feast, she played with the bracelet on her wrist and tried to count the days until the winter break in her head, thinking over and over again about kissing James’ cheek and how he’d smiled when she’d asked him to visit.

_I hope he doesn’t forget about me._

She sat still as the first years were sorted, and was jostled as the Hufflepuffs greeted their new members with glee, and she stayed at the back of the pack when the feast broke up. Rushing down the stairs to the Hufflepuff common room for the first time after a break had been one of her favorite things and she felt robbed of her last opportunity to enjoy it.

Ainsley didn’t come back to reality until she reached her dorm and opened her trunk, looking for her toothbrush. She stared down at its contents for a moment, aware that something was out of place but unable to place what. It wasn’t until her eyes came into focus that she recognized the bundle of tan fuzz in the corner as something distinctly _not hers_.

Confused and a bit frightened, Ainsley drew her wand and levitated the object up and out of the trunk, watching it unfurl and take shape in the air.

There, hanging in front of her, was a small, stuffed hare with light brown fur and a white face, and hanging around its neck was a small tag. Ainsley pulled it from the air and sat on her bed, holding the tag out toward the lantern so she could read it.

_Ainsley,_

 

_In case you get lonely._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Ainsley looked at the hare’s kind face and its warm, brown eyes, rubbing its ears between her fingertips. When she did, its nose twitched and she let out a small sound like a laugh and a cry. It was exactly the kind of charm Scorpius had on his childhood teddy bear.

She hugged the hare close and closed her eyes as her roommates shuffled and chattered around her. Maybe she wasn’t as far away as she’d thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> So I'm sorry for the delay in getting this to you. The election here in the U.S. really messed me up. 
> 
> There won't be as long a wait for the next chapter.
> 
> Come by and say hi. [Tumblr.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Love,  
> SP


	4. Help

Albus lay on the sitting room couch as Scorpius attempted to clean up after dinner, spent and irritated. His leg was throbbing and he cringed as he tried to stretch out again, barely managing to rest his ankle on the arm.

“Have you heard from Ainsley?” he asked Scorpius.

“Her first week went well,” Scorpius told him. Albus heard a metallic clatter from the kitchen and cringed at the sound. His head hurt nearly as bad as his leg.

“At least that’s what she wrote. She said she took up dueling this year, so that an Quidditch should keep her busy.” Scorpius continued. “It’s hard to say. She wouldn’t want to worry us if anything was going on and she certainty wouldn’t want dad storming McGonagall’s office to protest.”

Albus closed his eyes as Scorpius rambled, imagining a parent-teacher conference between Draco and McGonagall. Without Albus’ input, his one-man conversation wandered to some obscure incident in Hogwarts history when a foreign student had a misunderstanding, and Albus let his voice fade into the background. Normally, Scorpius’ voice was comforting, but today it felt more like static underneath fog of exhaustion, irritation, and pain of several different types.

He’d lost a niffler today, and a small family of injured and spastic bowtruckles had been brought in after their tree had been chopped down. They were in horrible shape, and though Albus knew they were in good hands overnight, he was still concerned.

“So anyway – I found _even more_ Chinese scrolls today. Can you believe it? That’s over a hundred. I have no idea what they say, of course, or why they were even buried down there. There’s no record – ”

Albus looked around the room from his depressing vantage point. The rooms they used – their bedroom, the sitting room, and the kitchen – were all a mess, which normally wouldn’t have bothered him. Albus had no problem cleaning up, but he was so tired and every night when he came home and the idea of moving around anymore than he had to seemed like too much.

Scorpius appeared over him very suddenly.

“Do you want to watch a film? Or maybe read?” Scorpius asked.

“I want to go to sleep,” Albus muttered, terse.

“Oh.” Scorpius looked down at him, thumbs tucked in his pockets, concerned. Consciously, Albus was aware that he looked worried, and he was _very_ cute when he was worried, but he didn’t have the motivation to do anything about it.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed,” Albus said. “D’you think maybe you could clean up? The kitchen was kind of a disaster already when I got home.”

“Of course,” Scorpius said. Albus watched his face grow more concerned, though he couldn’t see much of his eyes behind the glare on his glasses. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the couch and failed miserably at containing a strangled moan.

“Are you hurting?”

“Just a bit,” Albus lied. Scorpius’ open hand appeared in front of him, but Albus refused to take it, choosing instead to struggle to his feet on his own.

“Al, let me –“

“I’m fine,” Albus interrupted, steadying himself. “Just… just make the kitchen sanitary enough that I can cook breakfast, okay?”

“Let me at least help you to the bedroom.”

“Scorp, I’m fine,” Albus snapped, his patience breaking much faster than it normally would have. He shook his head to clear it.

“Sorry,” Albus apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.”

“You’ve been like this for weeks,” Scorpius said. Albus looked at the cold fireplace. He couldn’t meet Scorpius’ eyes.

“It’s nothing. I just… I’m just tired.”

“You toss and turn a lot.”

“And you only know that because you barely sleep,” Albus said, glancing at Scorpius’ face. “I’m just going to bed.”

Albus gave Scorpius’ arm a squeeze before limping from the room carefully, touching doors and walls to keep his balance. It was getting more and more difficult to keep his head straight when all he wanted to do was make it through the day – and the days just kept coming.

* * *

By the time Scorpius woke up and was coherent, Albus was already swearing in the kitchen. It was not how he’d wanted to begin a day off – one he’d designated for reading and taking naps with Freya – but the aggravation in Albus’ voice was so bitter that it couldn’t be ignored.

“Al?”

He stepped into the kitchen just as Albus tossed his wand onto the counter, his mouth drawn into a scowl.

“I needed you to do _one thing_.”

Scorpius looked around as if there was someone who could help, but Albus was repelling even the cat. His face had Scorpius considering going to find her to crawl into whatever corner she’d found.

“What did I do?”

“This place is a mess,” Albus said, shaking his head, his lips drawn tight. He sighed and looked at his watch, more impatient and twitchy than he’d been in weeks, which was saying something. As September had expired into early October, Albus had become irritable and drawn, and the dark circles under his eyes had darkened.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius protested, fiddling with the drawstring on his sweatshirt. Albus’ animosity was so rarely directed at him that Scorpius wasn’t sure how to handle it. “Here – I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone. I’ve just always been rubbish at these things, but maybe there’s a book upstairs –“

“Not everything has an answer in a book, Scorpius.”

Albus had snapped at him twice in as many days. That had to be some kind of record.

“Al, it’s not the end of the world. I’ll take care of it –“

“I have to get to work,” Albus interrupted. “I’m already late.”

Albus snatched his wand from the counter and grabbed his cane from its hanging place off the back of a nearby chair. He shuffled past Scorpius, who noticed that the fireplace was already lit. Albus was reaching for the Floo powder before Scorpius, still numb from waking up to an angry Albus and foggy from the lack of coffee, walked over to him.

“I’m trying,” Scorpius reminded him. “I’ve never had to deal with these things or use any of the household-y spells. I just need some practice.”

“That’s fine,” Albus said shortly. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Have a good day?”

It came out more like a question than their daily ritual, and his tone seemed to give Albus pause. He turned – somewhat reluctantly, Scorpius noticed – and kissed his cheek.

“You too. Enjoy your day off.”

And before Scorpius could say anything, Albus was in the fireplace and gone.

Scorpius stared after him for a moment, and then looked around. Things were a bit disorderly, but they weren’t _that_ bad. He’d learned pretty quickly at Hogwarts that Albus could be disorganized, but that he had a breaking point where he would eventually fix everything at once, while Scorpius could ignore just about anything if he were distracted enough as long as his books and work were in order.

After drinking a cup of coffee and reading the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ ( _Minister of Magic Tackles House Elf Wage Gap_ ), Scorpius walked from room to room, examining the house and realized Albus had a point. They’d both been so distracted, they’d let things get a bit out of hand, and Scorpius had barely noticed.

_On the one hand,_ Scorpius thought _, I do need to learn these things._

_On the other hand, Albus is irrationally angry and I really don’t want to fight over this._

Scorpius deliberated for a moment before heading back to the fireplace and grabbing the Floo powder.

* * *

Draco was sitting in the garden having tea with Dania when Scorpius arrived, jogging across the lawn to greet them.

“Scorpius. What an unexpected surprise,” Draco said, clearly bemused at his son’s unannounced arrival. In his haste, Scorpius had forgotten Dania would likely be there, and he blushed at his appearance – joggers and an old Hogwarts t-shirt were not his normal attire when he left home. He tugged the long sleeves of his shirt down, well aware that it was pointless – Dania had been the first person who’d seen his scars outside of Draco, Harry and Albus.

“Hello, Dania,” Scorpius said. He noted once again that she had a lovely, warm smile.

“Good morning,” she greeted. “Won’t you join us?”

“Erm… I’m a bit busy –“

“Nonsense,” Draco said, seizing his wand and conjuring a third chair. “Have a seat. At least for a moment.”

Awkwardly, Scorpius lowered himself into the chair and took a biscuit from the silver tray.

“What do you need?” Draco asked, sipping his tea.

“What makes you think I need anything?” Scorpius asked, offended, biscuit crumbs falling from his lips. “Can’t I just come see my father on my day off?”

“You never run, Scorpius,” Draco noted. “And you never leave the house like… well, _that._ ”

Scorpius scowled at him as he reached over to smooth out a stray lock of hair.

“Oh, Draco. Don’t tease him,” Dania said, an amused smile playing at her lips, and Scorpius noticed how his father’s expression softened when she spoke.

“Thank you,” Scorpius said to her. “But I actually do need something.”

“Ah, there it is,” Draco said, triumphant.

“Can I maybe… _borrow_ Pokey or Pike for a few hours?”

“Is something broken?” Dania asked.

“No. I’m just… well, I’m really rubbish at cleaning and doing laundry – those normal things, and Albus has been very busy at work and he hasn’t been feeling well. He asked me to take care of things, but I tried to use that dusting spell and nearly set the table on fire,” Scorpius ranted.

“What’s wrong with Albus?” Dania asked. “Maybe I can help?”

“His leg has been giving him trouble,” Scorpius told her. “And he’s been working some really long hours since the zoo is overflowing and they’re working within the new rules from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“I told Hermione those rules were going to complicate things,” Draco said, shaking his head. “But yes. By all means, take Pokey or Pike. Though I think Pokey might be off today.”

“Thanks,” Scorpius sighed with relief.

“Have Albus come by,” Dania said. “Let me take a look at him now that the injury has settled and we’ll see if there’s anything to be done.”

“I’ll tell him,” Scorpius says, standing. “Thanks, dad.”

As Scorpius bent over to hug his father, Draco muttered to him.

“Either learn to clean up after yourself, or hire a House Elf.”

“Understood,” Scorpius said. He paused for a moment, uncertain, before bending over and hugging Dania as well.

“I hope I’ll see you soon,” Dania said. Scorpius only smiled and nodded. Before he turned to go back inside, he took a look at the last rose bush Astoria had planted in the garden. It was covered in flowers.

* * *

Scorpius followed Pike around quietly for nearly an hour before she quietly told him that he should go enjoy his afternoon.

“But I’m trying to learn how to do things,” Scorpius muttered.

She gave him a dubious and sad look, and Scorpius sighed, resigning himself to the library with a cup of tea. He dug around for a book on everyday spells, but of course Draco Malfoy would not have thought to include such a mundane item for his son.

_This would be funny if Albus weren’t so damn moody_.

Scorpius fell into the seat at his desk, resigned. It wasn’t even noon yet and he was already exhausted. He was, he supposed, in a small state of shock, since Albus hadn’t even raised his voice at him since January.

_It was bound to happen,_ Scorpius thought sadly. _You were bound to fight over something. Isn’t that what couples do?_

As Scorpius rummaged around for a piece of parchment, he considered the ridiculousness of his current state – living in a London house with his boyfriend at eighteen was not exactly what he’d been picturing most of his life, but then again, neither were the scars on his wrists.

After a moment, he stretched the parchment out on top of his desk and grabbed his quill and favorite blue ink, and began to write.

_Dear Ainsley,_

_I certainly hope your day is going better than mine…_

* * *

Scorpius felt a small hand on his arm and jolted awake on the library sofa. It took him a second to realize where he was and who was touching him, but once his vision cleared, he saw Pike standing nearby, her head bowed, with a plate in her hands.

“Lunch, Master Scorpius.”

Scorpius sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling around for his glasses. He didn’t even remember deciding to lay down.

“Pike, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Pike wanted to,” she said, and Scorpius accepted the plate gratefully.

“Thank you.”

Pike nodded and stepped back, shuffling her feet.

“Erm… would you like to sit down?” Scorpius asked through a mouthful of roast beef. He patted the spot next to him, and after a moment’s hesitation, Pike pulled herself up to sit next to him.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Scorpius noted. Pike smiled sheepishly at him and looked down. She’d never been anything but quiet.

“How have you been?”

Pike glanced up at him quickly before looking back at her hands as she played with the hem of her tiny skirt.

“Well,” she answered. “Busy.”

Scorpius nodded slowly as he ate. He wasn’t sure what to say – he didn’t know much about Pike at all, while Pokey was an open book of jokes and excitement.

“Thank you for coming over here today,” Scorpius said. “I’m just… I’m rubbish at all of this. I have to learn, but…”

“Pike is happy to come help,” she said, swinging her legs over the edge of her seat. “Pike has been worried about Master Scorpius.”

“Worried,” Scorpius asked, taken aback. “Why were you worried?”

Pike looked up at him, her bat-like ears perking up a bit and her big, watery eyes wide.

“Master Scorpius has barely been home since…” her voice trailed off, and she twisted her hands uncomfortably in her lap. “Pokey and Pike worry.”

“Pike, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Master Scorpius has always been very kind – not at all like Pike’s old masters” Pike murmured. “And Master Draco was always so happy to see him.”

Scorpius thought back to when Pike came to serve the Malfoys. He was ten and the potions keeping Astoria healthy were slowly starting to lose their efficacy. They’d always kept her tired and achy, which always kept Pokey busy, but when her illness gripped her too tightly, Draco had hired more help to put her mind at ease. He hadn’t wondered where she’d come from at all.

“Your former masters didn’t treat you well?”

Pike didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. All she had to do was wring her hands, and Scorpius understood.

“Pike, I’m sorry,” he whispered, placing his hand on her small, hunched back. He remembered the worried sound of her voice after he’d been brought back from the Gringras estate, and how she’d always made sure there were cookies beside his bed at night when things were most difficult with Astoria.

“I should have asked,” Scorpius admitted. “All these years and I never asked you what life was like before you arrived with us.”

“Pike is happy to be with the Malfoys,” she said quietly.

“I’m glad,” Scorpius told her. “I really am.”

Pike patted his hand gently before sliding down from the sofa.

“Pike is done with most of the house,” she said as he took another bite of his sandwich. Scorpius liked few things more than a good roast beef sandwich, and it brightened his mood immeasurably.

“But Pike has some questions,” she said, shuffling her feet.

“Like what?”

Pike disappeared around the corner into the hallway and came back with a few articles of clothing. It struck him suddenly that it never phased her that he and Albus were together – she simply asked, without fanfare, who each of the articles belonged to.

“We sort of share that one,” Scorpius said awkwardly when she held up Albus’ old Quidditch jacket. He’d taken it from Albus ages ago and had worn it a few times to combat the chill beginning to settle into the archive basement. Albus found it funny that Scorpius stole his clothes when he had a closet full of expensive things, but no number of silk shirts could replace the comfort of a jacket that smelled like his boyfriend.

“And this?”

Pike held up an old journal of Scorpius’ from second year that had “Son of Voldemort” on it. When it had first been vandalized, Scorpius remembered the ink glowing red on the cover, but now it was just the dull color of dried blood.

“Chuck it,” Scorpius directed.

Pike nodded, then disappeared around the corner again, leaving the clothes behind and then returning with a plain wooden box Scorpius had never seen.

“And this, Master Scorpius? It’s full of empty vials.”

“Empty vials?”

Pike nodded, and Scorpius slid down to the floor. He threw off the box’s cover before peering in. Atop a small bed of empty vials was Albus’ old roll of potions tools, tied messily, and wedged in the corner were a few small, half-used bottles of ingredients.

“Where was this?”

“Pike found it at the back of Master Albus’ closet,” she said, shuffling her feet nervously. “Pike was picking up the clothes that had fallen. Pike wasn’t sure if they should be thrown away.”

Scorpius turned the box over on the floor, letting the vials spill onto the carpet with a tinkling clatter and grabbed a bottle of the ingredients as it rolled away.

“Valerian root?” Scorpius asked as he examined the bottle and grabbed another. “Dittany?”

He picked up one of the vials that still had a bit of residue in it and smelled it. A faint, earthy scent came from the vial that reminded him of something distinctly unpleasant, and it took a moment to place, but once he did Scorpius tossed the vial back into the small pile with the others.

“I’ll take care of this, Pike,” Scorpius said tightly. “Thank you for bringing it to me.”

“Did Pike do something wrong?” Pike asked, wringing her hands once more.

“Oh, no,” Scorpius said with a concerted effort to soften his tone. “Not at all. You’ve been lovely, and thank you for your help.”

Pike nodded and backed herself from the room carefully, and Scorpius listened as she shuffled up the hallway with the now-sorted clothes. Scorpius leaned back against the front of the couch and waved his hand, levitating the vials and bottles back into the box and summoning the roll of potions tools. He opened it and examined one of the stirring instruments. The end was still damp.

_He’s been brewing painkillers,_ Scorpius thought. There were at least ten empty vials, and if those were left over from some of the more volatile ingredients, it meant he’d been doing it for a while.

_Two doses at graduation nearly had him vomiting on the train home_ , Scorpius remembered as he bowed his head to rest against his knees. _He must be properly ill by now_.

Scorpius wasn’t angry, much to his own surprise. Disappointed, yes, but not angry. Instead, he felt overwhelming guilt – not because Albus’ injury was his fault, but because he’d clearly been suffering, and Scorpius had been so involved in his own sadness and disillusionment that he hadn’t even noticed.

Scorpius closed his eyes, thinking of his mother’s final years and her constant pain and weakness – the things the healers had been able to do nothing about.

Freya crawled into his lap, either to soothe his irritation or in spite of it, and Scorpius absently stroked her fur.

_Tossing and turning. Irritability. Exhaustion. He’s hurting himself._

Few things in his life had made Scorpius Malfoy feel stupid, and he added this to the very short list.

* * *

Magorian Smith approached with a grin beneath his impressive salt-and-pepper beard. Under normal circumstances, Albus would have stopped what he was doing to report in, but he was holding onto the inside edge of a large water tank, tending to a grindylow injured in a muggle boating accident and trying to harvest a skin sample for the research team upstairs.

“Albus! How is our aquatic friend doing today?”

“Well, the little bastard hasn’t bit me yet, so I’d say he’s doing a bit better,” Albus reported. “I’ve only had to use one revulsion jinx so far.”

He shivered against the cold of the water. The wetsuit he’d been provided didn’t offer much protection from the cold, but he was able to move more freely in the water than he could anywhere else. The longer he stayed in the tank with the grindylow, the less likely it was that he’d need another dose of the pain potion before heading home.

_But if I don’t take it_ , Albus thought, thinking of the vial tucked in the pocket of his jeans, _I’ll feel even worse in the morning_.

Albus spent more time meticulously managing his potion intake than he did doing anything else, and he hated himself for it, though he hated himself the most when he was tired and irritable.

_I’m going to be a terrible old person_ , Albus thought. _Crotchety and cranky. I doubt Scorpius will love me then._

_I doubt he loves me much now_.

“Aye, it seems he likes you better than anyone else,” Smith said, peering into the tank. Albus shook his head to bring his attention back to the moment. “Is his arm doing better?”

“Healing as it should,” Albus confirmed. “We should be able to release him next week.”

“Good work, Potter,” Smith said, patting his arm. “We’ll make a first-rate rehabilitation specialist of you yet. If that’s what you want, of course.”

“Yes, sir,” Albus said with a grin.

Smith moved on to check on a dragon hatchling with a malformed wing, and Albus sank into the tank a bit, followed by the grindylow’s large yellow eyes.

If he couldn’t help himself, at least he could help _something_.

* * *

Scorpius was waiting in the sitting room when Albus stepped from the fireplace as pale and weary as he’d been all week. He sat still, unnoticed, as Albus took off his coat and hung it on the nearby rack, hardly relying on his cane, but wincing when he stepped.

“Oh,” Albus said, surprised, when he finally turned and saw Scorpius sitting in the armchair. “I didn’t see you…”

Albus’ voice faded when he recognized the box sitting on the coffee table. Scorpius watched his face – Albus was an open book of expression when he was caught by surprise – and gave him a moment to think, but Albus stood in silence until Scorpius couldn’t stand it any longer. He hated confrontation, but he hated the idea of Albus hurting himself even more.

“Albus, sit down. Please,” he said softly, careful that he didn’t sound demanding – not that he was sure he could anyway. Albus, deflated, shuffled over and fell onto the cushion farthest from Scorpius.

“Scorp, I –” Albus cut himself off. He took a deep breath, staring at the box and then at the floor – anywhere but at Scorpius.

“What’s going on?” Scorpius asked.

Albus sat still for a moment, thinking. Twice he opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and instead just ran his fingers through his overly-messy and slightly-damp hair.

“Obviously, you know what that is. I was just trying to get through the day,” Albus said quietly. “Just one day at a time, like we said. But there was so much going on and I couldn’t keep up. I thought that… if I could just _move_ a bit better… and then I just kept hurting myself when I didn’t…”

Albus bowed his head, his elbows on his knees.

“I should have seen it sooner,” Scorpius lamented. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize… you’ve never been this short-tempered before – at least not with me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew you’d be angry,” Albus admitted.

“But I’m not.” Scorpius moved over to sit next to him. Albus’ shoulders tightened.

“I’m not angry,” he continued. “I’m upset that you’re making yourself sick.”

Albus said nothing and stared down at his folded hands. Scorpius could hear his own pulse in his ears and he drew his legs up beneath him and tugged his sleeves down over his hands.

“Al? Please look at me.”

Albus didn’t. He only hung his head lower, letting his unruly hair fall forward in disarray. Scorpius opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Even under normal circumstances, Albus’ sad face was enough to ruin his day, but this was something entirely different.

Scorpius had seen Albus angry. He’d seen him sad, defeated, victorious, grateful and completely and utterly contemptuous. He’d been injured, terrified and loving, and sometimes all those things at once, but Albus had never been good at hiding what he felt, even when he was bottling things up, and Scorpius had always prided himself on knowing what his best friend had felt, even before they were together.

But this time he’d failed, and he was angry with himself in a way he could never be angry with Albus.

“I just…” Albus started again, but his voice died in his throat quickly. Scorpius fidgeted with his sleeves nervously until Albus swallowed and found it again. “I was finally alright, you know? I was on the Quidditch team, my grades were up and the rest of the Slytherins didn’t hate me. And the best part was that I had you and I was _so_ happy. And then…”

Albus gestured at the both of them, and Scorpius rubbed the scars on his wrists absently.

“The one thing I thought I could control was being good at my job, but my leg just hurt so bad by lunch every day,” Albus continued, his voice thick and weary. “I just wanted to be able to do my job and take care of the creatures. I wanted to _help_.”

“You do help,” Scorpius said quickly. “Remember the centaur you helped last week?”

“Well, yes –“

“And that niffler. The one with the broken leg. And the bicorn!”

“I get it, Scorp,” Albus muttered as Scorpius wrenched his clasped hands apart and held one tight. “I just didn’t want to go back to being… well, to being a loser.”

There were words Albus and Scorpius had dropped from their vocabulary after fourth year – the ones that had stuck in both their minds, and _loser_ was one of them. Scorpius closed his eyes, trying to shake off an echo that felt father away with each passing year.

“You’re not, Al,” Scorpius said softly, resting his forehead against the back of Albus’ hunched shoulder. “You’re not at all. You’ve done so well, and I’m sure Magorian would understand if you can’t do _everything_. Like you said – a handful of the magizoologists are missing limbs, so you’re already better off there.”

Albus sniffed a bit and Scorpius ran his free hand across his sore knee, warming it up slowly. Albus sniffed a bit and looked towards him, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“How did you even find it?”

Scorpius felt the color rising in his cheeks and he buried his face in Albus’ shoulder, ashamed.

“I didn’t,” he confessed. “I nearly set a table on fire trying some cleaning charms, so I had Pike come over to help get things in order. I never would have gone through your closet, but I didn’t think to tell her not to.”

To his surprise and delight, Albus laughed a bit and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I used to think you were good at everything you put your mind to,” Albus admitted. “It’s actually a bit of a relief to find something you’re complete rubbish at for absolutely no reason.”

“Hey!” Scorpius cried in mock outrage. “At least I tried!”

“All that power and you can’t clean the dishes using magic,” Albus teased, but his voice was empty. Scorpius scoffed.

Albus smiled at him but didn’t meet his eyes. “What do I do?” he asked, clearly resigned to doing whatever Scorpius wanted, which was, for once, perfectly fine.

“Well,” Scorpius said. “I did some reading – ”

“Of course you did.”

“- and I think the best thing is for you to just let it get out of your system.”

Albus wrinkled his nose.

“It’s going to make you sick,” Scorpius continued. “But it should only be for a few days.”

“And then the pain will come back,” Albus moaned. “Not that it went away completely.”

“Well, yes,” Scorpius said quietly. “But I need you to be healthy.”

“Can we… maybe not let our parents know? Or anyone else? If this gets out… well, can you imagine the headlines?”

“Ugh,” Scorpius groaned.

“’Chosen One’s Son Addicted to Painkilling Potions,” Albus speculated. “Malfoy Heir Finds Solace in the Arms of Fellow Pureblood.”

“That’s entirely unrealistic,” Scorpius said. “This has only been going on for what? A few weeks?”

“A bit more than a month,” Albus confessed.

“And I would not _seek solace_ with anyone,” Scorpius assured him with a laugh. “I’ve stuck with you for more than seven years. It’s going to take far more than this…”

Albus closed his eyes again, gripping Scorpius’ hand tight. Scorpius lost his train of thought, realizing that there’d been some fear behind Albus’ speculated headline.

“Well, if you get too sick I’m calling Dania immediately,” Scorpius said firmly. “We both know she can be discreet. I’ve already been to Diagon Alley to pick up some restoration potions.”

“So I’m looking forward to a few days of sweating and freezing and pain?”

“And vomiting,” Scorpius added. Albus cringed.

“Great.”

Albus fell silent again as Scorpius’ hands went still again.

“Is there anything I can do?” Scorpius asked. Albus shook his head and Scorpius gathered him up, pulling him close to lay against his chest and Albus relented, falling against him.

“No,” Albus said. “There’s just some things I’m going to have to face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter isn't far behind.
> 
> In other news, I'm participating in the [HPCC Advent Calendar](http://hpcc-advent-calendar.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. I'll be writing something holiday-themed and Scorbus-related, so feel free to [send me your headcanons](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/ask) for inspiration. Or just say hi. Hearing from you makes me happy.
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	5. Steps

* * *

Scorpius sent the owls to the Magizoology Society and the archives early in the morning with brief messages detailing similar vague family issues for the both of them. Albus slept well into the morning and Scorpius resigned himself to the library. He read for hours until Albus announced he was awake by violently retching down the hall.

He quickly bookmarked his novel, and walked down to their bedroom where he found the bathroom door closed and locked.

“Albus? Are you okay?”

On the other side of the door, Albus coughed.

“I’m fine,” he said eventually. “Just go away.”

Scorpius tested the lock again. “Al, open the door.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No. I’m just sick to my stomach is all.”

Scorpius cringed as Albus retched again.

“Can you please let me take care of you,” Scorpius said quietly. “You’ve been taking care of me for months.”

“It’s not a competition.”

Scorpius sat on the trunk at the edge of the unmade bed and folded his hands in his lap as Albus rummaged around in the bathroom. He didn’t blame himself for Albus’ injury anymore and he knew Albus didn’t either - not after Albus had spent every day for a month reminding him.

But he wasn’t blameless in letting Albus make himself ill with painkilling potions – not when all the signs were there, and that was a heavy weight on his chest.

Albus emerged from the bathroom with a damp towel pressed to his forehead. He was pale, shirtless and sweaty though he was only wearing a pair of old athletic shorts and the air was far from warm.

“You should just go read,” Albus said. “Or watch a film. I’m useless today.”

He limped slowly from the doorframe and collapsed behind Scorpius on the bed. Scorpius waited until he settled into a comfortable position to crawl back next to him.

“Seriously Scorp – just go.”

“No,” Scorpius said.

“Being an only child has made you terribly stubborn,” Albus said, turning his back to Scorpius and curling around a pillow.

“I’m used to getting what I want.”

“Isn’t that what this is?” Albus asked. “You’re getting what you want.”

“What I want is you not killing yourself,” Scorpius snapped, nudging his glasses back up in his nose. “I have a list of things I want to do before I die and nearly all of them involve you.”

It came out far harsher than Scorpius had intended. They hadn’t talked much about the future beyond the next two or three years, but that didn’t stop Scorpius from thinking about it frequently. More often than he would have liked, he found his mind drifting while he was organizing old books – imagining himself old with Albus, laughing and reading and talking about all the things they’d done and places they’d been.

It was a vague, hazy picture, but it was one he wanted to keep.

Albus lay still and silent for several moments and Scorpius began reading again, sitting up against the headboard. It wasn’t until Albus turned over and looked at him that he stopped and looked down at him expectantly.

“Tell me about them,” Albus said softly. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, but they had their usual effect. Scorpius face softened.

“About what?”

“Your plans. The ones that involve me. Tell me about them.”

Scorpius set the book and his glasses aside before sinking down on the bed.

“What do you want to know?”

Albus’ stomach grumbled audibly and he grimaced, swallowing hard. He waited for the latest wave of nausea to pass before risking speaking again.

“Everything,” Albus said, sliding over to Scorpius’ side and resting his head against his shoulder. “I want to know everything.”

Scorpius took the damp cloth from Albus’ hand and cooled it again until ice spread across his fingertips before gently rubbing Albus’ neck with it.

“Well, I definitely think we need to visit Paris,” Scorpius began, and Albus listened to him ramble about the placed they’d go and the things they’d see until he fell asleep again.

* * *

A day of shivering and vomiting bled into a night of fever dreams and an increasing dull throbbing that spread down Albus’ side to his toes. Despite his protests, Scorpius, defiant as ever, had stayed with him, barely dozing off for a few minutes at a time with his arms firmly locked around Albus’ waist and his face buried in the hair at the nape of Albus’ neck.

It wasn’t unlike when Albus fell off his broom in a Quidditch match – except this time Scorpius wasn’t sitting beside his bed while Albus tried to sleep. They weren’t hiding or ready to jump apart in the Slytherin dorm should the door open, and even though Albus had an infinite number of better days, Albus thought this was preferable.

Albus had just barely dozed off after dawn when an owl started tapping at the window. Scorpius groaned and slowly dragged himself from beneath the covers to investigate. Albus watched him open the window and take the gray owl’s letter. He wanted to get up, but his limbs felt heavy and his breath felt too slow – as if a fever had broken.

“What is it?” Albus groaned, his face half turned into the mattress. Scorpius smiled and shook his head.

“Nothing to worry about,” Scorpius assured him, coming back over to brush his hair back and press a light kiss to his forehead. “Do you think you can eat?”

Albus nodded a bit. His stomach felt empty and hollow but remarkably less volatile than the previous day.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll figure out breakfast.”

Albus wanted to argue that Scorpius was less-than-equipped to do so, but the grogginess won before he could and he fell back asleep before Scorpius could leave the room.

* * *

“Al, I need you to wake up for a minute.”

It felt like only a few minutes had passed when Scorpius called from the doorway with a bowl in his hand. Albus, startled, sat up in bed, cringing as all his muscles and joints protested. His stomach grumbled loudly and he noticed Scorpius had already gotten dressed for the day.

“I have to go in to the archive for a bit,” Scorpius told him. Albus could smell the scrambled eggs and he stared at the bowl longingly. He didn’t care if he had to endure Scorpius’ cooking.

“I’ll be fine,” Albus assured him.

“Well, I’m not taking that chance,” Scorpius said. “I’ll feel much better if you’re not here alone.”

“But you promised this would stay between us,” Albus whined, reaching out for the bowl, but Scorpius didn’t move.

“I did,” Scorpius agreed. “That’s why I called upon someone we both know can keep a secret.”

Albus gave a loud groan of protest that was cut short when Scorpius stepped out of the way to reveal a tall, friendly-faced witch with red-brown hair and a Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt.

“Hello, Albus,” Maggie Goyle said with a smirk. “I hear you’re feeling a bit under the weather.”

Maggie dodged the pillow Albus threw at her head.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. He really is in a mood.”

Scorpius suppressed a chuckle as Albus glared at him.

“Be nice, Albus. She’s here to help.”

“I don’t need any – “

Albus was cut off by a withering look from Scorpius. Maggie looked between them with raised brows.

“Well, this is a role reversal, isn’t it?” she asked Scorpius. “Wasn’t it normally Albus calming _you_ down?”

Scorpius offered only a hum of agreement as he approached Albus, offering him the bowl of scrambled eggs.

“When you’re done with that, drink this,” Scorpius ordered, setting a fresh bottle of restoration potion on the nightstand beside him.

“Fine,” Albus grumbled through a mouthful of eggs. “But I’m not going to like it.”

“Now you’re just being difficult for the sake of being difficult,” Scorpius said, but leaned over and kissed the top of his head anyway. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. This shouldn’t take long.”

Despite his disproportionate irritation, Albus looked up at him.

“Hurry back?”

“I’ll do my best,” Scorpius assured him. As he left the room, he muttered to Maggie.

“He’s just irritable,” he said.

“How is that different than usual?” Maggie asked with a smile.

“Regardless, cut him some slack. He’s in a lot of pain.”

“I know,” she assured him. “I’ll take care of him.”

Though she’d arrived only moments before, Scorpius hugged her in gratitude for the third time before grabbing his robes and taking off for the fireplace.

* * *

Scorpius entered the Director of the Magical Archives’ office with more anxiety than he’d felt since taking his O.W.L.s. He thanked the secretary that had escorted him with a small, polite bow, then turned to the director.

Martia Bagshot was an older witch with loose ties to Bathilda Bagshot – a childhood idol of Scorpius’. He’d met her briefly only once, and had steered clear of her after overhearing a conversation in which she speculated he might be better suited for a position somewhere else.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Please – have a seat.”

She pointed to an empty chair across from her desk, and Scorpius jumped a bit upon realizing there was someone else seated across from her. As he took his seat, he gave a short glance to the wizard net to him. He looked to be in his early twenties with short, shiny black hair and dark eyes. Scorpius noticed the pin on the lapel of his deep gold robe – a stylized dragon clawing its way from a volcano.

It was the symbol Mahoutokoro School of Magic.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is Jin Eisuke from our sister archive in Japan.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Scorpius said, extending his hand. Jin offered a firm handshake and a smile.

“Likewise,” he said. Scorpius hadn’t expected him to speak with a British accent, and the surprise must have shown on his face.

“My mum is British. My father is Japanese,” he explained. “We lived here until I was ten.”

“Yes, Mr. Eisuke’s mother worked here for a very long time,” Bagshot explained. The look on Eisuke’s face explained perfectly why his mother was no longer at the archive. She was dead.

“Now, Mr. Malfoy – I’ve been told you’ve been hard at work cataloging everything in the basement.”

“Yes,” Scorpius confirmed. “I’m probably about a quarter of the way there.”

“Well, Mr. Ware has been quite impressed by your efforts,” Bagshot told him. Scorpius was surprised Ware had even noticed. He barely moved from his desk most days, and when he did it was usually to give Scorpius a near-impossible list of requests from the researchers upstairs.

“Mr. Eisuke is interested in the Chinese scrolls you’ve been finding. While he’s here as our visiting scholar, he’ll be conducting additional research into their old alchemical practices. I want you to provide him with whatever he needs while he’s here.”

Scorpius glanced at Jin and found that he looked bored, twirling his wand between his fingers.

“Of course,” Scorpius said quickly. “I’d be happy to.”

“Just don’t interfere with his work, Malfoy,” Bagshot directed. “Mr. Eisuke is going to be quite busy conducting research on top of his guest lecturing post.”

“I’ll manage,” Jin said slowly. Scorpius looked between the two and wondered if the director had some problem with Jin’s work.

“Well, carry on, then,” Bagshot said, gesturing to the door. “Show him what you’ve found.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scorpius said, scrambling to his feet. Jin stood as well, stretching, and Scorpius noticed the Mahoutoroko emblem was embroidered on the back of his robes as well.

“Malfoy, is it?”

“Yes,” Scorpius confirmed.

“Lead the way, then.”

* * *

“Honestly, Maggie. I’m fine.”

Maggie let Albus fall into the armchair in the sitting room before throwing herself onto the couch, kicking off her shoes.

“You needed to get out of that room,” she declared. “It’s not good to stay in one place like that, even when you’re sick. Clever trick with the floating stair, by the way.”

“That was Draco,” Albus grumbled, wrapping Scorpius’ bathrobe tighter around his chest. There wasn’t anything wrong with his own, but Maggie had handed him this one and it smelled like Scorpius so he hadn’t bothered correcting her.

“How is Mr. Malfoy?” Maggie asked. “My father mentioned him the other day.”

The idea of Gregory Goyle talking about Draco irritated Albus for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“He’s good. His girlfriend Dania moved into the manor and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

“It’s strange,” Maggie mused. “My father used to tell stories about Hogwarts and I had a very different picture of Draco Malfoy in my head than the one Scorpius gushes about.”

“I think Draco Malfoy was a very different picture as a child,” Albus said. “My father used to tell me stories too.”

Maggie wrinkled her nose and looked at him.

“I suppose he did.”

“About your dad too.”

“At least your parents get along now,” Maggie said. “My father and Duncan’s father… had quite the falling out.”

“Oh?”

“Duncan found out that his grandfather on the Flint side wasn’t exactly as pure-blooded as he’d claimed.”

Albus cringed. He knew both Maggie and her boyfriend Duncan had grown up in severely prejudiced homes – Flint had been quite the elitist his first year at Hogwarts until he was exposed to muggleborns and half-bloods and realized for himself that they weren’t all that different.

“So now my father wants me to leave him.”

“You’ve been together for almost two years,” said Albus, aghast. “It’s not like he doesn’t know Flint isn’t a good guy –“

“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie said, staring at the ceiling. Albus hadn’t known Maggie to be phased by much of anything and she hadn’t so much as blinked when she found out he and Scorpius were together, but now her voice was strained and she was blinking a lot as she stared upwards.

“He said he’s cutting me off if we’re still together at the end of the year,” Maggie said. “And Duncan’s father is so angry at my father for saying that – well, he’s actually just angry about his diminished blood status – that he’s urging Duncan to leave _me_ too.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Albus said, suddenly grateful for the whole time-turner incident. Without that impetus, he wasn’t sure Harry and Draco would have ever learned to get along. “Marcus Flint would be damn lucky to have you as a part of his family.”

“I know! I’m a delight!” Maggie cried. “Anyway – I’m cut off if I don’t break up with him, but the only thing I’ve ever been somewhat good at is Quidditch, so I’ve got tryouts next week with the Appleby Arrows.”

“That’s great,” Albus said, forcing a smile. Maggie looked over at him, sympathetic.

“I’m sorry. I know you can’t play anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for you,” Albus said. “Except for the whole part where your dad wants you to break up with your boyfriend. That’s rubbish.”

Maggie looked at him for a moment, clearly trying to come to a decision.

“Scorpius was really worried about you this morning,” she stated. “Fortunately, my father wasn’t there when he showed up in the fireplace, but he scared the hell out of my House Elf.”

“He went to your house?”

“Not entirely. He just talked to her through the Floo and told her I needed to come here ASAP because you were ill and it was an emergency.”

“I’d hardly call it an emergency,” Albus countered.

“To him, it is,” Maggie said. “Don’t you remember when you fell off your broom in sixth year? He barely left you for _days_.”

Albus couldn’t exactly forget, though in the grand scheme of things it seemed largely inconsequential now.

“That stuff is dangerous if you take too much,” Maggie reminded him. “Just be careful. And stop being such a tosser.”

Albus rolled his eyes at her but smiled anyway.

* * *

“This is everything I’ve found,” Scorpius said, gesturing to a long row of shelves along the basement's back wall. Files overflowed with old bits of parchment, mixed in with scrolls.

"How did you organize them?" Jin asked, taking down one of the scrolls and unrolling it.

"By date whenever possible. I had to learn to read the numbers – I can't read any of the text."

Jin hummed either approvingly or disapprovingly – Scorpius couldn't be sure. He checked his watch anxiously.

"What else have you found down here?"

"Old editions of books that are cataloged upstairs, mostly," Scorpius told him. "A lot of scribblings from old wizards that someone wanted to keep but no one knows why. I could only file the English, French and Spanish ones accurately."

"Those are the languages you speak?"

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Jin," he said, replacing the scroll. "I speak English, Japanese and Chinese, so if I find anything to help, I'll let you know."

Scorpius fidgeted nervously with the band of his watch. "Can you tell me what you're trying to do? Maybe I know some things that could help."

Jin sighed and ran his hand through his very short, very shiny hair. Scorpius was certain he'd never met anyone who'd attended Mahoutokoro before and he had about a million questions.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for to be honest," Jin said. "To teach at Mahoutokoro, you have to make a contribution to your field that the council deems worthy, and since mine is history and alchemy, it's all book-based I'm afraid. I came here as a visitor because it's where my mum worked. I remember coming here as a child…"

"I'm sorry about your mum."

"Why?"

"She's gone, isn't she?"

"Yes," Jin said slowly, looking at Scorpius over his shoulder.  "But I never said that."

"I can tell," Scorpius said, adjusting some books that had fallen over. "I lost mine a few years ago."

Jin regarded him for a moment, and Scorpius pretended not to notice.

"It's a special kind of grief, isn't it?"

"That it is," Scorpius agreed.

* * *

When Albus woke from a long nap, he felt considerably more clear. He looked around until he found Maggie sitting at the kitchen counter, reading from _The Daily Prophet_ and sipping a cup of tea. He struggled to is feet and tested his leg.

It was about as bad as he'd expected.

With great reluctance, he grabbed his cane from the umbrella stand beside the fireplace, and the noise made Maggie squeak and jump with surprise.

"Sweet Merlin," she cried. "I didn't even realize you were awake."

"Sorry," Albus apologized, smiling through the pain. "Are you hungry? Scorpius should be back soon."

Maggie nodded, and Albus got to work in the kitchen, waving off her attempts at help.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Really. I feel much better already."

Maggie huffed and folded her arms.

They chatted idly about Albus' job and Flint's new position at the Ministry of Magic in the Broom Regulatory Control office, and for a moment, Albus actually began to miss Hogwarts.

Scorpius stumbled from the fireplace and brushed ash from his navy-blue robes just as Albus was distributing pasta across three plates.

"You let him cook?"

"He's terribly stubborn," Maggie said, idly flipping through the sports section of the _Prophet_.

Scorpius sighed at her and threw his robes on the sofa before joining them in the kitchen, where he quickly sized up Albus. He was pale and somehow in Scorpius' bathrobe. His eyes were clear if still a bit puffy, but he was smiling – actually smiling – and that was good enough.

"I'm okay," Albus assured him, noticing Scorpius' scrutiny. "Really. I feel loads better."

As Albus stirred the spaghetti sauce, Scorpius hugged him and kissed his temple, to which Maggie made loud, exaggerating gagging sounds.

"Ugh," she muttered. "No wonder you guys had the no-kissing-in-the-dorm rule."

"Flint told you about that?"

"Obviously," Maggie said, rolling her eyes.

Albus placed her dinner in front of her, and Maggie grinned.

"Although," she said. "I think I can forgive you if this tastes as good as it looks."

"It does," Scorpius assured her. "Albus is a wonderful cook, even when he's grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy."

"You are," Maggie said. Scorpius nodded and Albus tried and failed to scowl at him. Scorpius sat down next to Maggie with his plate, and Albus joined a moment later.

"What was so important that you had to go in?" Maggie asked. "It's hard to imagine the _library_ having an emergency."

"It's much more than a library," Scorpius said, twirling spaghetti around his fork. Maggie and Albus exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. "There's a visiting scholar from Japan who wants to look through those Chinese scrolls I keep finding. The director needed me to show him what I've found."

"The director? Does that mean they're over the 'Son of Voldemort' rumors?"

"Highly unlikely, but it's a step in the right direction," Scorpius said with a sad smile. "And a step is a step."

"Indeed," agreed Maggie. "Though I still fail to see how anyone could think you're evil."

"Clearly, you've never interrupted him reading," Albus mumbled and Scorpius smirked at him.

* * *

Later that evening, Albus lay curled up on the sitting room couch with his head resting against Scorpius' thigh. It wasn't until he realized Scorpius had nearly nodded off while reading that he decided he finally had to speak.

"Hey, Scorp?"

"Hmm?" Scorpius jumped a bit at the sound of his voice. Albus smiled and looked up at him.

"I'm really sorry."

For a moment, Albus was afraid Scorpius would brush him off and continue reading to avoid any kind of emotional confrontation, but he slipped his bookmark between the pages and set his copy of _Paradise Lost_ aside.

"Don't be sorry," he said softly, looking down. Albus cringed a bit – he hadn't even noticed his boyfriend had gotten a haircut, and now he was too afraid to ask when it had happened. "Just don't do it again."

"I won't," Albus assured him quickly. "I was just afraid that I wouldn't be able to do my job. I just…"

"Don't want to be a burden?" Scorpius supplied. He smiled and tapped Albus' nose with his index finger. "I can read your mind, you know."

"I'm well aware," Albus said, thinking of his parents' ability to have entire conversations with only a few words. He'd thought it was something that made them special when he was growing up – maybe a lingering effect from the war and all Harry had been through – and he wondered now if he and Scorpius would someday have that some ability.

"I can't watch someone else I love suffer," Scorpius said quietly, and Albus bit down hard on his lip. "I refuse. And it kills me that I can do all these strange things, and I can't do anything to heal you."

"It isn't your fault," Albus said. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to work with the smaller, cuter creatures at work and to have you take care of me sometimes."

Scorpius laughed and rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."

* * *

Ainsley had been so distracted with schoolwork and her early N.E.W.T. revision study group that she'd nearly forgotten the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. When she woke so late on Saturday morning that it was nearly afternoon, she threw her jacket on and headed down from the castle. One of the few perks of being invisible at Hogwarts, she'd found, was that you could get places faster without chattering friends around you.

She hummed to herself absently as she walked down the winding path that led to Hogsmeade, entirely unaware of her surroundings until she got to a particular crossroads surrounded by tall trees whose leaves had already changed for the season. She stopped in her tracks.

Her body reacted before she could even consider why her heart was beating faster. A steady but slow stream of students moved around her, laughing and jostling each other, completely ignoring the grassy but still-visible depression in the earth.

_Run along, little girl._

Ainsley shook her head in a fruitless effort to clear it.

_Ainsley, go._

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling for the handle of her wand in the interior pocket of her jacket. There was nothing to be afraid of, she knew. It was only students and a few teachers on the road, all looking forward to an afternoon away from the castle, but suddenly Ainsley wished she'd stayed back.

"Nonsense," she muttered to herself, beginning to walk again. "They're waiting for you."

She kept her head down until she'd passed the crater, trying and failing to not think of her mother and the twisted line of her mouth when she'd lied and said she hoped the aurors would find Scorpius in a timely manner.

Ainsley counted her steps as she walked into Hogsmeade, looking up as she entered the town to see Albus, James, and Scorpius standing ahead of her, waiting. James and Albus were laughing, but Albus' face looked tight and anxious as he gripped Scorpius' hand and Scorpius stared ahead down the path out back to Hogwarts.

Ainsley looked back over her shoulder. The edges of the crossroads were just visible from the town center if you looked hard enough.

"Ainsley!" James called as she approached. Albus smiled at her and Scorpius pulled his hand from Albus', stepping ahead of them to greet his cousin.

"I forgot that… I hadn't come back here since."

"Me either," Scorpius said, quickly drawing her into a hug for which Ainsley was endlessly grateful. Scorpius and Draco were the only family she had now, and she'd do whatever she had to if it meant keeping them close.

Ainsley heard James and Albus approaching as Scorpius, who towered over her, lowered his head to rest on her shoulder.

"We can leave," Ainsley told him quietly. Scorpius shook his head and straightened himself, tugging his jacket – Albus' jacket – back into place.

"Nonsense," Scorpius said. "It just caught me off guard."

Ainsley looked at Albus as he greeted her and gripped his boyfriend's arm. Clearly, he had not been caught off guard. He looked pale and somewhat-shaky, and Ainsley was about to ask if he was okay when James spoke.

"It's okay that we're here, right?" James asked, looking between the three of them. Ainsley would have liked to hug him, but Scorpius had a protective arm around her shoulders and she wasn't willing to ruin it.

"It's fine," Scorpius said.

"Really," Ainsley confirmed.

"Can we _not_ go to the Hog's Head? Ever again?" Albus asked.

Ainsley met Albus' eyes. They both looked down at the cobbled pavement.

"Um… sure," James said slowly. "Three Broomsticks?"

"Yes," Scorpius said quickly. "Three Broomsticks. Good plan."

Ainsley watched as James swallowed hard, looking somewhat helpless and confused at the same time. Vulnerable James, she found, had a very cute way of running his hand back through his hair.

As they walked slowly towards the Three Broomsticks – Albus seemed a bit slower today and Scorpius refused to let go of Ainsley's shoulders – she looked around at her fellow students.

"Do I need to punch anyone?" James asked, watching her.

"Not today," Ainsley said, smiling at him.

"Just say the word. Albus can trip people with his cane, you know, if you don't want to go straight to punching."

"It's true," Albus agreed. "I nearly killed Scorpius yesterday."

"In your defense, I should have been watching where I was going," Scorpius said as James held the door for them.

Ainsley quickly claimed the quiet booth in the corner, though it did little to help them avoid the stares from the other Hogwarts students. Across the room, two of her roommates were already seated and didn't seem to notice when their drinks arrived since they were too busy watching James take her jacket.

She wound up between Scorpius and James in the curved corner booth, which was quite possibly one of the most comfortable places she could have been.

"How's Draco?" she asked.

"He's obsessing over getting Teddy and Victoire the perfect wedding present. I think he's trying to make up for everything that was done to Teddy's family."

"Though Teddy _was_ treated like a prince as a child," Albus amended. "He may have lost his parents, but I can assure you he never wanted for anything. Dad would have happily spent his last galleon to make that kid smile."

"I honestly didn't understand that we weren't related by blood until I was five," James said. "He was around so much, and I just kept hoping my metamorphmagus powers to kick in."

"You were so disappointed," Albus remembered.

"Well, anyway, he was really touched when we got the invitation, so he's losing his mind trying to find the most _proper_ but _elegant_ gift he can find," Scorpius explained. "And I think Dania finds it amusing."

"I really like her," Ainsley said.

"I do too," Scorpius agreed. "Far more than I thought I would."

A pretty young witch appeared at their table to take their order, and Albus requested an endless supply of Butterbeer. As she scribbled in her notepad, she scanned their faces, and Ainsley was tempted to answer her unspoken question.

_Yes, we're_ those _people._

"I had to get fitted for new dress robes," James sighed as she walked away. "She's putting us in _silver_. All these people with red hair and she chose _silver_."

"I think you'd look good in silver," Ainsley said quietly. James looked down at her, and she noticed his cheeks had gone a bit pink.

"Dad got you dress robes, right?" Scorpius asked. "Or do we need to go to the shop here for a fitting?"

"What?"

"Dress robes. For the wedding."

"I'm not going to the wedding."

The three men exchanged glances that Ainsley didn't immediately understand.

"Ainsley, of course you're going to the wedding," Albus said slowly.

"The invitation was for all _four_ of us," Scorpius said. "Dad, Dania, me, and you."

"This… is news to me," Ainsley said, folding her hands under the table and looking between Scorpius and James. She felt very small between the two of them.

"Merlin, Ainsley," Scorpius said, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't think to clarify –"

"I-I didn't know I was supposed to be going," Ainsley said sheepishly. "I didn't think to ask and I've only met them a couple times."

"For Dumbledore's sake, Ainsley," Albus laughed. "Don't you think James would have asked you if he hadn't already assumed you were going?"

It was Ainsley's turn to blush as James groaned in embarrassment and sank down in his seat.

"Well… I…"

Ainsley was saved by the reappearance of the waitress with their Butterbeer and she seized hers quickly and busied herself with drinking it, lest she embarrass herself again.

"My question still stands," Scorpius said, both flustered and amused. "Do you have your dress robes?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then," Scorpius said. "Dad will send your travel arrangements later this week – did you _really_ think you weren't going?"

"You do realize my mother barely let me out of the house, right?" Ainsley all but snapped. "And that there's no Greengrass family left other than you and I don't even know my own father, so there weren't any parties or weddings. I'm not exactly used to this."

Scorpius stared at her, and Ainsley looked back, trying to ignore the fact that their noses were near-identical.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice soft and quiet. "I didn't mean –"

"Don't apologize." Scorpius shook his head. "Not for telling me when I'm wrong."

"I don't like the way those Ravenclaws are looking at us," James interrupted, staring across the room. Ainsley peered around the corner and saw two Ravenclaw sixth-years with identical scarves around their necks – sisters named Emily and Emilia – eyeing them while pretending to look at their menus. She leaned across James for a moment longer than necessary, pleasantly surprised by how warm he was.

"Don't mind them," Ainsley said, sitting back. "They call me Death Eater because they're angry I'm better at them in History of Magic."

"Hmm," hummed Albus, looking across the room. "So it is genetic."

Scorpius nudged him and the two exchanged fond smiles.

"Remind me to scare them on the way out," Scorpius said with such dignity that Ainsley couldn't imagine him scaring anyone.

"Yes, you're terrifying," Albus teased.

While Albus and Scorpius bickered with stupidly-happy smiles on their faces, James leaned over and whispered to Ainsley.

"Is everything okay?"

Ainsley smiled at him for a moment, unable to speak with the sound of her cousin laughing behind her and the knowledge that she was invited to a wedding with _her family_ and James Potter looking at her like she was the only person in the room.

"Everything's good," she said, slipping her hand under his atop the table. "It really is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're interested, I'll be participating in the [HPCC Advent Calendar](http://hpcc-advent-calendar.tumblr.com/) on December 15th. Take a look and follow the blog - there are some excellent writers and artists in the lineup.


	6. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please accept this gross piece of fluff as penance for my absence.
> 
> I've had several requests for more Ainsley, and though you'll be seeing her more in the upcoming chapters, I thought I'd give her a bit more screen time here.

Albus returned to work in the middle of the week once he knew he wouldn't embarrass himself with any vomiting or bouts of obvious, visible irritability. Scorpius had begged him to stay at home at least another day, but Albus couldn't stand being cooped up any longer, and when he arrived back to the cool air in the rehabilitation unit at the Magizoology Society, he knew he'd made the right choice.

"'Ey! Albus!" Smith called to him. Albus scanned the chaos of the room – though it was somewhat calmer this morning – until he saw Magorian at the long back table were the egg incubators were kept. Albus made his way across the room slowly, aware of each step and each tap of his cane, until he was able to stand in front of a row of speckled eggs.

"What are these?"

"Ah, I thought you'd be interested in 'em," Smith said. "They're Welsh Green eggs. One of the aurors found 'em in a makeshift pen on the Yaxley estate. Seems one of 'em was illegally breeding magical creatures."

"Lovely," Albus groaned. He pulled himself onto one of the work stools and picked up one of the eggs, cradling it gently in his hands. "It's heavy. They're not far from hatching."

Smith shook his head, pulling a notebook towards his seat. "They're not, and I'm damn glad your dad's team found 'em."

Albus smiled a bit. Sometimes he got so lost in Harry being _dad_ and _the chosen one_ that he forgot he was an important part of the Ministry too.

After a few moments of admiring the eggs, Albus spoke. "Hey, Magorian?"

Smith looked up from the log he was editing. "Hm?"

"I wanted to tell you that I've been having trouble… some days with my leg and all. So maybe sometimes there are some things I shouldn't do."

It was surreal to Albus that an admission that felt so heavy to him was received with as such a mundane item.

"No worries. Sometimes Celeste has to remind me she's only got the one hand," Magorian said, going back to the ledger. "Just tell me when you're having a rough day. We can work 'round it."

Albus stared at the top of Smith's head as he wrote, suddenly feeling that the world was far less complicated than he was making it.

* * *

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a Niffler!"

Albus held up the small black creature squirming in his arms, setting a small cage down beside his feet. He'd just arrived home to find Scorpius on the floor surrounded by bits of parchment with a notebook open in his lap and a quill behind his ear. Of all the sights Albus had ever come home to, this had to be one of the best and he smiled down warmly at Scorpius.

Scorpius, however, looked less than pleased.

"Well, yes. _Clearly,_ it's a Niffler," he said, nudging his glasses back up on his nose. "What the is it doing here?"

"Poor dear was caught in a muggle street and got hurt," Albus said, turning the Niffler to show its bandaged hind leg. "He wasn't doing so well, but he seemed to like me, so Magorian told me I should take him home so he wouldn't be lonely all night."

Albus lowered himself carefully onto the floor in front of Scorpius, keeping his arm and hand tight around the Niffler so it couldn't escape, though it had stopped struggling now that they had reached their destination.

"You didn't like the Floo, did you?" Albus asked the Niffler. He got only a cursory sniff in response.

Scorpius, curious, reached out and scratched the top of the Niffler's head. It responded with an affectionate squeak and closed its eyes, content.

"He likes you too, I see," Albus said, capturing Scorpius' hand and holding it for a moment. "Very particular, this one. He only likes the best."

"I can see that."

Scorpius began gathering the parchment.

"Don't stop on my account," Albus said. He picked up one of the pages and scanned it. "Whatever this is…"

"Just trying to organize some of Jin's notes," Scorpius explained, rubbing his temples. "He's been tearing through those scrolls as fast as I can find them. There's so much down there – stuff our books don't even cover."

"Like what?"

"Like potions. Old spells. Accounts of conflicts from before 1600 – from all around the world," Scorpius said. "He's translating as much as he can and he's - get this – using muggle technology to send copies back that he can't read himself to experts in older dialects."

"Muggle technology?"

"It's risky, but he's doing it anyway," Scorpius said. "He says that we need to start developing an international understanding of magic instead of the fragmented literature and practices we have today, and I have to say I agree."

"So you and Jin are getting along, I take it?"

Scorpius tapped the notes into a neat stack and slid them back into a folder. He seemed to have forgotten the quill tucked behind his ear. Albus decided to see how long it would take him to notice and watched as Scorpius sent the folder to a nearby table with a wave of his hand.

"Quite. It's been nice. Doing actual history stuff, I mean."

Scorpius' eyes were brighter, and for the first time in recent memory he was smiling about something to do with work. It took Albus a moment to realize why he didn't like it.

"Should… should I be worried?"

"Worried?"

"Well, you seem to like this Jin guy a lot," Albus muttered, his voice trailing off.

Scorpius stared at him for a long moment and Albus quickly grew nervous. He should have kept his mouth shut. Saying something like that – especially after his recent stunt with the pain potions – was sure to set his boyfriend off.

Much to his surprise, however, Scorpius' face broke into a grin and he started laughing.

"Oh, Albus," he said fondly, rocking forward onto his knees to kiss Albus' forehead and cheek, dislodging his glasses. "If I didn't abandon you during your 'my dad hates me so I hate everyone' phase, you can safely assume I'm not going anywhere."

Albus narrowed his eyes at him, mocking, before Scorpius rose and walked toward the kitchen.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Scorpius said.

* * *

"ALBUS!"

Scorpius makes no move as he listens to Albus move around hurriedly upstairs. He doesn't retreat to help when he hears Albus on the stairs, and he doesn't even turn around when Albus enters the newly-destroyed sitting room.

"Oh, no," Albus muttered, looking around. Books and papers littered the floor along with the smaller items from the kitchen. The cushions from the sofa were tossed about, and Albus' favorite recliner had been thoroughly disassembled.

"What. The. Hell."

Albus looked at Scorpius, who was eyeing a defaced book on the floor. He was livid.

"Where is it?" he hissed.

Albus didn't need to wait long for his answer. A small metallic clattering came from the kitchen, and both Scorpius and Albus walked slowly – Albus using Scorpius' arm for stability – to investigate.

The Niffler was sitting in the silverware drawer, its injured leg stretched out awkwardly. It was examining a fork from the pure silver set Draco had put in the kitchen – the set he and Scorpius had yet to even touch.

At his side, Scorpius glared at the Niffler.

"Sweet Merlin," Scorpius whispered. "How can such a small creature wreak such havoc?"

"And injured too," Albus said proudly. "Little guy has spirit."

Scorpius' ire turned on Albus as the Niffler took note of their presence. They weren't expressive creatures, but Albus could have sworn it looked elated as it held the fork out to him, proudly offering a gift to his favorite human. When Albus just smiled at it, the Niffler dug in its pouch and withdrew a pocket watch – one that had belonged to Scorpius' maternal grandfather – and held it out as well.

"Oh, come on Scorp," Albus said, imploring. "How can you possibly be mad at that face?"

"It's difficult," Scorpius admitted. "But I assure you, I'm managing."

Albus stepped forward and took the fork and watch from the Niffler, who sniffed his hand happily. After setting the items aside, Albus picked the creature up and it happily curled into his chest.

"It's like you when you're especially sleepy," Albus said cheerfully. Scorpius' face softened only a bit as he pulled his wand from the pocket of his bathrobe and wordlessly set off to repair the damage.

* * *

He shouldn't have found it funny. It _wasn't_ funny, and Scorpius wasn't in the business of laughing at other peoples' pain and anxiety – especially his father's – but the sight of Draco Malfoy pacing in his dress robes, fretting over a wedding and a gift was one of the most endearingly awkward things he'd ever seen, and Scorpius couldn't help smiling.

Scorpius lounged lazily on the sitting room sofa, playing with his cufflinks with his legs stretched across Albus' lap while they waited for Ainsley and Dania. He was careful not to wrinkle is new navy blue dress robes, and had spent the last half hour making sure Albus did the same.

"I don't understand why you're so nervous, Mr. Malfoy," Albus said. "Teddy _invited_ you. You've talked. You've patched things up."

"We've _talked_ once," Draco said without breaking his stride as he crossed in front of them again. "And he said he didn't resent me, but it's not like he's calling me Uncle Draco or anything."

"Teddy Lupin is one of the most forgiving people I know," Albus said. "He's like an extra brother. He was around all the time when I was a kid and I can assure you he's never resented anyone in his life."

"But I'm his uncle and I've ignored him most of his life."

"Mostly because grandfather kept you away from everyone," Scorpius reminded him. "You didn't have any relationship with his grandmother."

"Still," Draco said, his eyes dark. "I'm not proud of it."

Scorpius fell silent, knowing there were a great many things his father wasn't proud of.

"What did you get them?" Albus said, eyeing the box on the table. It was wrapped perfectly in silver paper with an exquisite white bow on top.

Draco paused, looking at the box.

"Harry mentioned once that Teddy liked his Astronomy classes at Hogwarts, so I found the best telescope in Diagon Alley."

Albus and Scorpius exchanged glances but said nothing. They both knew the "best" meant "most expensive."

Dania strode into the room, pulling on the robe that matched her dark blue dress. Draco's face broke into the first real smile Scorpius had seen that day, save for when he and Albus had first arrived.

"You look lovely," Draco said. Scorpius watched as he took Dania's hand and kissed it formally. Dania, for her part, seemed to appreciate the gesture and smoothed a stray piece of his hair back behind his ear.

"As do you," she replied. Scorpius stood quickly and was greeted with his customary embrace.

"And you, Scorpius," Dania said as she hugged him. "Such handsome gentlemen all around."

"We try," said Albus. Scorpius looked at Draco as Dania offered Albus a peck on the cheek. He looked nearly-ill as he resumed pacing.

"Dad, it's going to be okay," Scorpius said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I've met Teddy a few times. And he invited you to the wedding to make amends."

"It's not Teddy I'm so worried about," Draco admitted. "It's his grandmother – my Aunt Andromeda. With my mum gone… well, we both know your grandparents died of spite."

Scorpius nodded in agreement.

"Aunt Andromeda was the closest to my mum when they were kids, and I think it broke her heart that my she followed my father's lead and disowned her after she married Edward Tonks. And I wouldn't be surprised if she never forgave me for failing to reach out…"

"You can't beat yourself up over this," Scorpius said. "You weren't exactly in control of your life, and it's not easy to stitch things back together after… well, something like _that._ "

Draco's nervous face softened as Scorpius felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind – arms that decidedly weren't Albus. He looked down and saw Ainsley's pale hands and long fingers and felt her rest her head between his shoulder blades in a hug. He squeezed her hands in greeting.

"The Malfoy family didn't deserve you or your mother, Scorpius," Draco said fondly. "Not one bit."

* * *

Scorpius sat between Albus and Draco, surrounded by the Potter and Weasely families during Teddy and Victoire's wedding ceremony, which was lovingly officiated by Hermione Granger-Weasley.

Though Scorpius didn't know either of them very well, he could tell their chosen location was ideal. Victoire's gown shimmered with the sea behind her, and Teddy – who wore his own face and naturaly brown hair for the occasion – couldn't take his eyes off her.

"They asked dad to do it," Albus whispered during a lull in the ceremony. "You can see why he declined."

Scorpius looked around Albus to see Harry sitting closest to the aisle with one hand placed firmly over his mouth and the other holding Ginny's in a vice-grip. Tears were streaming down his face, and he had to remove his glasses to wipe them away. The only person nearby crying harder was Bill Weasley.

Ginny, noticing Scorpius and Albus' attention, leaned over.

"The Great Harry Potter," she whispered to them. "Reduced to a blubbering mess by his godson's nuptials."

Scorpius laughed a bit as Ginny went back to consoling her husband. Albus reached around his mother and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder in support, and Scorpius found he was quite proud.

It wasn't until after the Unbreakable Vow was taken and Hermione began pronounced them man and wife that Scorpius became aware of Albus' hand in his, and wondered if, someday, the two of them would get married. He'd thought of it before in the vaguest of terms, but watching Teddy Lupin – a distant relative of his – marry Albus' cousin made it suddenly seem like a very tangible possibility.

As the ceremony ended and Victoire and Teddy kissed and embraced, the congregation stood to greet the newly-wed couple, Albus gave his hand a hearty squeeze.

"Someday?" Albus asked.

Scorpius smiled and nodded.

"Someday."

* * *

Draco was uncomfortable – that much was clear. He stayed close to Scorpius as Harry explained how he, Bill, Charlie and Percy had built the enormous platform next to Shell Cottage that was now housing the reception, and that George and Ron had spent the better part of the morning charming candles and fairy lights to float around it.

"You gentlemen put a lot of work into it for them," Ginny noted, looping her arm through Harry's. Nearby, Albus leaned against their table as the Potter and Weasley families congregated, coming and going as the songs changed.

"We tried," Harry said. Draco could see his eyes were still a bit red from crying during the ceremony and he dug deep to try and judge Potter for the waterworks but knew damn well he'd sob through Scorpius' wedding when the day came.

Draco nervously sipped his champagne – he was already on his third flute – when Rose approached in her bridesmaid dress, breathless and laughing with Victoire and James in tow. In the distance, Lily was dancing exuberantly with Luna Lovegood, their arms waving erratically above their heads.

"Uncle Harry!" Victoire said. The bride leaped at Harry, who caught her in a hug.

"You've made the most beautiful bride," Harry told her, his voice suddenly tight and emotional again.

_Not again, Potter_ , Draco thought. _You'll embarrass yourself_.

Beside him, Ginny cleared her throat loudly.

"Second most beautiful bride," Harry corrected quickly, winking at Victoire. Ginny stepped in and embraced her niece before Albus was offered his turn. Scorpius watched closely, setting his Butterbeer back on the table and keeping his hand free lest Albus lose his balance.

Victoire greeted everyone with hugs and kisses and smiles – even Scorpius, who seemed quite surprised at her embrace – and Draco hung back, unwilling to intrude on the family moment.

In the distance, Dominique and Fleur called for her.

"Just a moment!" Victoire yelled back. To Draco's great surprise, she turned to him.

"Mr. Malfoy," Victoire greeted, turning on a formality and poise that reminded Draco forcibly of her mother. Fleur Delacour had been so graceful marching up to the podium when she accepted her place as a Triwizard Champion that even Draco Malfoy – a sullen fourteen-year-old often trapped in his own head – found her enchanting.

"Mrs. Lupin," Draco responded with a small, practiced bow.

_Too formal,_ he thought quickly, but it was too late to check his instinct. He nearly kicked himself.

Teddy appeared at Victoire's side and wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders.

"I suppose this makes you my uncle now, doesn't it?" Victoire asked, folding her arms. The added sass made her sound infinitely less like her mother and much more like a Weasley.

"I suppose so," Draco echoed, unsure of what to say. He felt his shoulders tighten as he waited for some clue of what to do next, his eyes flickering quickly over the crowd to locate Dania. He suddenly wished she were here – she'd become very skilled at calming his nerves and tempering the more formal and stiff tendencies beaten into him at a young age.

"Well, _Uncle Draco_ ," she continued in a tone that had both Teddy and Harry raising their brows in alarm. "I suppose you should dance with me then."

He felt a grin spread across his face as he took her hand, letting out a small sigh of relief. Victoire beamed up at him and kissed Teddy as they passed, heading towards the dance floor.

"Don't step on her toes, Draco," Teddy called after them. "She hates that!"

__

There were at least a hundred people at the wedding, and Ainsley was pleased to see that most of them had friendly smiles. Everyone was celebrating the new couple with dancing and laughter, and though Ainsley had only met Victoire and Teddy once, she couldn't help feeling some of that excitement rub off on her.

She sighed contentedly as she picked up some snacks and a fresh drink. Though she was elated to see them happy, she needed a break from watching Albus and Scorpius exchange soppy looks while they played with each other's fingers and hair.

"Ah, Miss Greengrass."

Ainsley turned to see a middle-aged witch she'd never seen before.

"Hello," she said politely. "Have we met?"

"Gemma Farley," she said, holding out her hand. Ainsley set down her plate to shake it. "I'm an old friend of your mother's."

Ainsley let go of her hand quickly.

"I see," Ainsley said. "Well, I best be getting –"

"How is she doing?" Gemma asked. Ainsley looked at her long and hard and found only flickers of recognition. Maybe she was in some of the old photos left at her mother's house.

"As well as one can do in Azkaban, I suppose," Ainsley replied coldly.

"Such a shame," Gemma said, shaking her head. "I remember Daphne when she was a first year. She was so eager to prove herself. I was quite surprised to hear of what happened – she always seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Tell me – is she holding up well?"

"I haven't been to see her."

"Oh, dear," Gemma tsk'd. "You really should go and see her. Those Azkaban visitor logs are public knowledge. How do you think it will look if you don't?"

"Hopefully like I want nothing to do with her," Ainsley said coldly. "That would be best."

"My dear," Gemma began, coming closer. Ainsley had to check the instinct to step back, lest she seem fearful. "You must respect that she's family. All our kind has is family."

"Our kind?"

"Pure bloods, love," Gemma said. "We have to stick together, lest our wizarding blood becomes diluted and magic dies out."

Ainsley tilted her head, confused.

"Why are you here?" she asked firmly. "At the wedding of, as my mother would have put it, a 'blood-traitor mutt and a half-breed'?"

Gemma straightened herself, tugging her ornate robes into place. She didn't need to answer, though, as a young man who appeared to be Teddy's age (at least, Teddy's age when he looked like himself) approached. He was handsome in the same fashion as Draco was – he had an aristocratic face unmarred by laugh lines or any sign of happiness.

"Ah – Niles. This is Ainsley Greengrass. Ainsley – allow me to introduce my son Niles," Gemma said. Ainsley reluctantly extended her hand, which Niles took and raised to his lips. She bit back a cringe.

"Pleasure," Niles said.

"How do you know the happy couple?" Ainsley inquired, stealthily wiping her hand against her dress.

"I did the Quidditch commentary with Teddy at Hogwarts for a year or so," Niles said. Ainsley noticed the Slytherin pin on his lapel as he sized her up. "And you?"

"Friend of a friend," Ainsley explained. "I had to show up and support my fellow Hufflepuff."

Gemma smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Perhaps you two should dance? There's so few places young witches and wizards can meet these days."

Ainsley cut Niles off quickly. He looked far too agreeable to the notion though his face had gone a bit pink.

"I'm going to have to pass," Ainsley said.

"Miss Greengrass," Gemma implored. Niles looked down, clearly embarrassed now at his mother's behavior. "You're one of the last pure bloods in England. And with your cousin being… well, _what_ he is, I hope you know how important that is."

Ainsley stared at her in disbelief.

"I'll have you know that my cousin is one of the best people I know," she snapped. "And his boyfriend is frankly one of the bravest people I've ever met, and you'd be damn lucky to know them."

"Miss Greengrass, make no mistake –"

"Excuse me."

She shoved her way between them and downed her flute of champagne in just a few seconds. Between Gemma Farley's words, Niles Farley's eyes raking over her, and the knowledge that everyone in the congregation knew who she was, Ainsley felt very exposed.

"Is everything okay?" Albus asked as she returned to the table.

"It's fine. Mrs. Farley just wanted to have a chat about my mother and marriage prospects." she assured him. He and Scorpius were watching the others dance, seated side-by-side. Ainsley wasn't sure how Scorpius managed to make curling up in a chair like that look elegant, but he was managing it so he could rest his head against Albus' shoulder.

"Farley? Is Andrew here?"

Ainsley shook her head, leaning back against the table.

"It's his aunt," Ainsley explained. "It's nothing I'm not used to."

Scorpius looks decidedly disappointed and rests his head back against Albus' shoulder. Ainsley watched as Albus wraps his arm around her cousin's shoulder. Albus looked less like a Potter with his hair smoothed back, and Scorpius looked less like a Malfoy with the warm, happy smile on his face and his fingers nervously playing with the edges of his sleeves.

_Two families at opposite ends of a spectrum,_ Ainsley thought, _and these two manage to meet in the middle._

"You should go dance," Albus said, nudging him.

"I'm perfectly content right here," Scorpius assured him. Albus didn't argue, and just carded his fingers through Scorpius' hair.

Ainsley watched them for a moment, until it felt intrusive. She looked around and felt as though she were watching herself – removed from everyone around her – as weightless and disconnected as the lights floating above their heads. She looked up at them, thinking of the Great Hall, and felt a bit of dread settling into her stomach. Two nights sleeping in her room at the Malfoy Manor was not enough, and she resented the idea of returning to school on Sunday night.

"Ainsley?"

Her eyes focused after a moment on James walking towards her, tentative but smiling. He'd divested himself of his outer layers and stood before her in his dress shirt and waistcoat with his tie loosened. He'd gotten a haircut since she'd last seen him a few weeks ago and she wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked.

Well, she knew it was, but she still wanted to check again.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," he said quietly. She looked up at him, realizing he was close enough to hug, and so she did.

"I've been here," she said against his shoulder. After a moment, James hugged her back, his large hands pressed against her back.

"Teddy and Victoire have kept me busy," he said as she released him, addressing Scorpius and Albus as well. "I wasn't trying to avoid anyone."

"Mum and dad have been around," Albus said. "And Rose was looking for you, but somehow I'm thinking she's found something better to do…"

James and Ainsley followed his gaze to the dance floor where Rose had captured the attention of a young wizard who looked remarkably like Viktor Krum.

"Poor sap has no idea what he's gotten himself into," Scorpius said, shaking his head. Rose had him by the hand and they were dancing so wildly that the others were giving them extra space, lest they be struck. From the side, Hermione and Fleur looked both amused and horrified. Ron simply looked horrified.

After watching the spectacle for a minute, Ainsley looked down to find that James had slipped his hand into hers. She felt his eyes on her as she looked at their clasped fingers. When she looked up at him, his expression plainly asked: " _is this okay?_ "

She smiled at him and squeezed his fingers lightly, suddenly feeling grounded.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"Are you sure you want that article in the _Daily Prophet_?" she asked evenly. " _'Hero Potter's Son Wooed by Death Eater's Daughter_ ' doesn't sound very good. I won't' be offended if you don't."

James laughed. "I don't think we could possibly beat " _Potter's Son Gay for Malfoy Heir,"_ he said, then craned around her to look at Albus. "No offense."

"The truth isn't offensive," Albus said. She couldn't imagine that Scorpius was able to doze off with all this noise, but he was contentedly curled into Albus' side with his eyes closed. For such a tall young man, he could make himself seem very small.

Ainsley slipped off her black robe and set it over the back of her chair. The weight of James' eyes on her felt very different than that of the Farley boy.

"Come on, then," she said.

James followed her obediently toward the dance floor, where Rose and the young wizard who, upon closer review, was clearly Viktor Krum's son were engaged in a very slow dance. Ainsley saw James' eyes flicker over them protectively as he checked the location of the boy's hands.

To the side, Hermione, Fleur and Viktor Krum himself were all watching, amused, with a rather flustered and irritated Ron standing behind his wife.

"Well, now I know what we'll be talking about over Christmas pudding," James said, drawing Ainsley in closer with one hand on her waist and the other held lightly against his shoulder. He kept a respectful distance – the kind she appreciated but wasn't sure she wanted.

"How are things at Gringotts?"

"Good. Bill is retiring to a tamer desk job. Less work – more play, so I'm working with his replacement for a while until maybe I can take the position."

"Are you still traveling a lot?"

"Less and less," James admitted. "Only a few days at a time now."

"So… maybe you'll be here at Christmas?"

"I certainly hope so," James said, smiling down at her. For the first time, Ainsley didn't mind being a bit on the shorter side. "Are things okay at Hogwarts?"

_Lie_ , Ainsley thought, but immediately knew she couldn't.

"I'm mostly on my own," she said. "After everything with my mum and people being terrified of Scorpius, no one really wants much to do with me."

They looked over to where Scorpius and Albus sat, talking to each other happily. Scorpius gestured wildly about something, his long limbs flailing, making Albus laugh. With that stupid grin on his face, he looked like the most harmless person in the world.

"Except some of the shiftier Slytherins – there are a few in my year," Ainsley added, looking back at James.

"Well, you did break Fortescue's nose."

"I don't regret that at all," she assured him. "They're not afraid of me. And no one is being mean, really. I just… don't talk to anyone anymore. I sit with Lily and your cousins whenever I can, though."

James scowled a bit, both at her words and at the couple that bumped into him.

"I wish there was something we could do," James said.

"You and your family have done plenty, James," Ainsley said. "I think this is the first time I've had real friends in my life."

He looked troubled and opened his mouth to protest, but came up short as Ainsley nervously played with his collar.

"Well," James began slowly. "It would be very difficult for us to not like you. Speaking for myself and my family, of course."

"Why is that?"

"When Harry Potter is your dad, you learn pretty quickly that you can care about people you're not related to as much as you can those who share your blood. Or hair color, in my case," James said. "So Scorpius… and somehow Draco – they're family now and so you're one of us. Which is great, because you're smart and tough and funny –"

"And Lily's jealous of my hair."

"You do have excellent hair, yes," James laughed. "You, me, Rose and Victoire should start a club."

Something over Ainsley's shoulder caught James' eye and he glared. She turned, careful not to break away, and saw Niles Farley averting his gaze quickly, dancing stoically with one of the Weasley cousins. James pulled her just a bit closer.

She looked down, unable to remember the last time she'd smiled so much her face hurt. Around her, familiar voices laughed and talked and she couldn't hear a single serious note in the crowd. For once, recognizable voices were comforting.

_Smart and funny,_ she thought over and over again. _Smart and tough and funny_.

When the music changed, she stepped in closer to James, who didn't seem to mind one bit, and rested her cheek against his chest. Scorpius was watching her as Albus talked to one of the Weasleys, and when he caught her eye, he gave an exuberant double thumbs-up. Ainsley felt herself go red, and she turned her face against James' chest until it passed.

_I don't know how long this will last_ , she thought as James swayed with her to the music. She felt his hand in her hair, gently playing with the curls Dania had carefully crafted down her back.

_Just let me enjoy it while I can_.

* * *

The party was already starting to slow down as dancers began to tire and the older attendees began to feel the effects of the champagne. Draco moved through the party, scanning for Dania who had disappeared an hour ago. When passed Scorpius and Albus, who were happily sharing a slice of wedding cake, he decided not to interrupt them.

He found Dania seated next to Harry across a small table from Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin.

Draco swallowed hard and steeled himself as he approached.

"Mrs. Tonks," he greeted. Dania and Harry looked up at him, and Teddy looked away, grinning and wiping tears of laughter from under his eyes. Draco immediately regretted interrupting – clearly, they'd been having a good time.

"Hello, Draco," Andromeda said. Though she looked enough like Bellatrix that Draco had to take a single, deep, calming breath, her eyes were his mother's, and it was heartbreaking. Narcissa Malfoy had many flaws, but the love she'd had for her only son wasn't one of them, and in hindsight, Draco understood her far better than he had as a child.

He gestured to the free seat next to Dania. "May I?"

Andromeda nodded, and Draco seated himself on the edge of the chair, straight-backed and obviously uncomfortable. Dania's hand found its way into his, and he was immensely grateful.

"Harry was just introducing me to your lovely girlfriend," Andromeda explained.

"I was telling Mrs. Tonks –"

"Please, call me Andromeda."

"Andromeda," Dania corrected. "I was saying she should come over next week for tea. You were saying you had no context for some of those old photo albums, and I'm sure she'll recognize some of the faces."

"We can compare them with some of mine," Andromeda said uncertainly. "If you'd like. That way Teddy and Scorpius and the others will have some record of their ancestors."

Draco smiled sadly at her, imagining for a moment just how different his childhood might have been if his Aunt Andromeda had been a part of it – if he'd been exposed to her kinder outlook on life, even just a bit. He couldn't change the past, but maybe there were a few things he could still provide for his son.

He held Dania's hand tighter in gratitude, knowing she'd understand.

"I'd like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had several people ask me how long this fic will be before the series ends, and the answer is that it should come in well under 20 chapters if all goes according to plan. And yes, there is a plan.
> 
> As always, I love hearing from you. Reading reviews over breakfast brightens these dark December mornings immeasurably. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr. ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	7. Salazar

The archive basement became frigid as October rolled into November, and Scorpius found himself alternating between his Weasley sweaters – the one he'd received his first Christmas with Albus, and the second one sent to him by Mrs. Weasley when he went back to Hogwarts following 'the incident' (at least that was what Albus called it) – and old sweaters of Albus that were too short in the arms and too big in the body.

"What does that crest mean?" Jin asked one afternoon, his attention divided between his latest translation and Scorpius' shuffling about. He'd long since stopped wearing his Mahoutokoro robe in favor of more subdued things Scorpius suspected he'd purchased in Diagon Alley after getting too many strange looks.

"Oh, this?" Scorpius asked, pointing to the snake on his chest.

"Is it your family's?"

"Oh, no," Scorpius said. "Well, it could be, but no. It's the Slytherin shield. It's one of the four houses at Hogwarts."

Jin nodded, looking back at his writing. "I read about that," he said. "Aren't the Slytherins a bit evil?"

"Some of them are," Scorpius admitted. "The rest of us are just… driven."

Jin glanced at him as though _driven_ didn't fit the man in front of him.

"The Malfoys are all Slytherins, weren't they?"

"Hmmm, yes," Scorpius said, mentally scanning his family tree. "Most of us, I think. But my mother's side was pretty diverse. Mum and her sister were both Slytherins, but my grandparents were Ravenclaws and my cousin is a Hufflepuff. She's in her seventh year now…"

Scorpius trailed off as he realized Jin was distracted. Scorpius frowned as he held the parchment up to the light, examining it.

"Find something interesting?" he asked, tapping a stack of books with his wand and enchanting them to hover and following him. He was pretty sure Jin had heard the rumors but didn't want to give the only historian who'd given him the time of day reason to be wary. He stuck to wand-magic when he wasn't alone.

"Just some old writing on curses and counter-curses," Jin explained, sounding bored. He set the parchment down and rubbed his face in exhaustion. He'd barely moved for hours. "Old ones that haven't been practiced in centuries – some nasty stuff."

"Oh yeah?"

Jin shook his head, eyeing the stack of notes and old writings. "Wizards were brutal in the Dark Ages. All blood curses and turning people inside out. It's a bit difficult to cover –"

Scorpius knit together what Jin said and promptly blocked everything else out.

Curses and counter-curses. Blood curses. Counter-curses.

Scorpius stared at the offending yellowed and frayed parchment, unmoving and suddenly numb.

After a minute, Jin waved his hand in front of Scorpius' face.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes – I… did you say blood curses and their counter-curses?"

"Yeah, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Do you want to help work on these –"

"No," Scorpius said quickly, his heart suddenly beating faster than he liked. "No, I don't."

"Okay," Jin said slowly, clearly alarmed. He wasn't a particularly expressive man, but Scorpius recognized the furrowed brow and frown as worry. He'd had Scorpius help him with several things and had never been met with anything less than enthusiasm. "What's wrong?"

Scorpius stared at the parchment again, suddenly unable to look at Jin. He'd accepted at a young age that his mother was going to die and there was nothing that could be done about it, and the idea that a possible cure, no matter how convoluted, existed was enough to make him strongly consider vomiting.

"A blood curse is what killed my mum," Scorpius explained quietly. He felt a familiar heat rising up the back of his neck and put the books down on the nearest table, looking away from anything flammable. He felt volatile for the first time in almost a year, and the last thing he wanted was to start a fire in a room full of paper.

"Ah," Jin said awkwardly, tucking the parchment away. "And you don't want to know if –"

"No, I don't," Scorpius interrupted. "I don't want to know if there was something that could have…"

"I'm not sure if it will make you feel any better," Jin started gently, "but I'm not sure I can even translate these or get them translated. It's a mess. And even if I can… who's to say it's valid?"

"I don't care," Scorpius said, feeling entirely irrational for the first time in ages. "I just don't want to know."

Jin nodded slowly, regarding Scorpius with concern. "I understand," he said, brushing some dust from his sleeves as he stood.

"Let's go get something to eat," Jin said, grabbing his jacket. Scorpius frowned at him in confusion. Jin usually kept to himself and never asked anyone to join him.

"Are you sure?"

"You look like you could use a break," Jin said. "Frankly, you looked like you needed a break when you walked in."

Scorpius groaned and rubbed his face in embarrassment. He'd been too busy to shower this morning and had left hastily.

"Yeah, it was a rough night. My boyfriend brought home a bunch of injured owlets because he couldn't bear to leave them at work alone."

"Owlets?"

"He works at the Magizoology Society," Scorpius said proudly as they began the climb up from the basement. "He's in the rehab unit."

"My wife's family bred owls," Jin said. Scorpius did a double take.

"You never mentioned you were married."

"You never mentioned you lived with your boyfriend."

"Well, there are some people around here who don't take kindly to that," Scorpius said. "And our community is a bit protective of his family, since they're pretty well-known."

"The Potters are well known everywhere," Jin said as they reached the top and stepped onto the dark wood floor of the lobby.

"So you already knew," Scorpius groaned.

"Everyone knows," Jin said. "Besides, three separate people here warned me about working with you when I got here."

Scorpius hung his head a bit. "I'm not surprised."

Jin shrugged and smiled at him as they walked outside into the cold December air. "I'm pretty sure the dust in that basement is more likely to kill me than you are."

Scorpius laughed, but still felt an uneasiness in his chest thinking about the notes they'd left downstairs. As they stepped out into muggle London in search of a decent cup of coffee, Scorpius kept his eyes down. Every brown-haired woman they passed turned into Astoria, and Scorpius felt he'd had his fill of ghosts down in the quiet of the basement.

* * *

Scorpius wasn't expecting to find his father in his kitchen when he came home. He wasn't expecting to find Albus trying to mediate a fight between a Kneazle and Freya either, but after the owlets, the Niffler and an entire family of malnourished Pygmy Puffs, he wasn't entirely surprised.

He just greeted them both and settled in on one of the counter stools for some explanations.

"The Kneazle is on the mend from a curse," Albus explained as Scorpius accepted a Butterbeer from Draco, who was distributing sushi rolls from a take-out container onto three plates.

Scorpius just nodded in understanding, still feeling somewhat defeated. He took a long drink from his Butterbeer, letting it warm him from the inside out.

"Are you well?" Draco asked. Scorpius just nodded again and took another drink. He was so used to telling Draco everything, but finding out there could have been a way to save Astoria? Only one of them needed to suffer.

"I'm fine," Scorpius said, his voice more hoarse than usual. He cleared it and repeated himself.

"Are you sure?" Albus asked. He limped over to where Scorpius sat and kissed him on the cheek before sitting beside him, the Kneazle in his lap. Scorpius heard Freya hiss at the interloper from across the room, but didn't have the energy to do anything about it.

"I think mum wishes I'd kept those Pygmy Puffs," Albus said to Draco. Scorpius leaned onto the table, his fingers on his temples. Despite having a relatively routine day, his head was pounding.

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying your work, Albus," Draco said, setting plates in front of them. Scorpius looked up at Draco, intending to thank him, but found the words taken right out of his mouth.

"Merlin's beard," he whispered, his eyes wide. He had gotten used to Draco wearing slightly more casual clothes – button down shirts without jackets and elegant sweaters instead of suits and formal robes, but this… well, this was unexpected.

Beside him, Albus looked at his watch.

"Two and a half minutes," he said. "A lot longer than I thought it would take."

Draco smiled at Scorpius, rubbing the back of his now-exposed neck self-consciously.

"It was time," he said.

"You cut your hair," Scorpius said, moments too late. "You cut your hair off."

Draco gave him an uncertain smile.

"You've always had long hair," Scorpius said uselessly as Draco turned again to get his plate. He wasn't even sure he'd ever _seen_ the back of his dad's neck. "I've only ever seen you like this in old photos."

"Well, it was time for a change," Draco said, sitting across from him. "I was cleaning a few things out and came across an old photo of my father. It was like looking in a mirror."

Scorpius stared as Albus started wolfing down his dinner, fumbling with his chopsticks.  

"Oh," was all Scorpius could say. Now more than ever, he was aware of his resemblance to his father.

_I wonder if I should go back to that shaggy-hair thing I had going on for a while_ , Scorpius wondered. A bit of silver blended in to Draco's hair at the temples, but besides that, Scorpius felt as if he was in an eerie mirror. He understood where Draco was coming from.

"Well, this is disorienting," Scorpius said, tearing himself away from his father's suddenly-younger appearance.

"It was time," Draco repeated. "I have to admit – I do feel a tad bit lighter."

Albus chuckled through a mouthful of food, and Scorpius set about eating, letting the kitchen fall into silence.

After a few moments of happy eating, Draco spoke up again.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm here," he said to Scorpius.

"After the day I've had, I really wasn't."

Draco frowned at him.

"Did you have a bad day? If someone is giving you trouble again –"

Scorpius cut him off with a shake of his head.

"No, it's fine," he lied. "Just a long day. Why _are_ you here, other than to make sure we've eaten?"

"Thank you," Albus said belatedly before shoving another piece of sushi in his mouth. He'd given up on the chopsticks and had resorted to using his fingers. Scorpius found it endearing but Albus earned a light glare from Draco that he ignored entirely. 

"I had something I wanted to talk to you about," Draco said tentatively. His tone was enough to have Albus looking between them.

"Should I go?" he asked.

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. Scorpius was grateful – without Albus there, he might have broken down and told Draco about the papers Jin was currently sending out for translation. "It's fine. But you do have rice on your chin."

Albus quickly wiped it away and Scorpius took a deep breath to steady himself for whatever his father was about to say. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at Draco, too tired to jump to conclusions or rant in speculation.

"Scorpius, as you well know, I've been spending a great deal of time with Dania, and recent events have gotten me thinking. I wanted to talk to you about –"

"Just show me the ring, dad," Scorpius said sighed, holding out his hand. Draco stared at him in surprise.

"What?"

"You're going to ask her to marry you," Scorpius declared. "I've known you would for ages and you're here asking me if I'm okay with it, which I obviously am –"

"I should go," Albus muttered, but Scorpius reached back and put his hand atop Albus' head to keep him in place.

" – and so you will have already spent the day getting the ring because you've never been one to waste time when you've made up your mind."

Draco's eyes were wider than Albus had ever seen them.

"So let's see it then," Scorpius said, ruffling Albus' hair before removing his hand.

Draco, unblinking, reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet pouch. Though Scorpius was happy for him, he couldn't muster more than a cursory smile – the one he knew was required. Draco deserved better from his son, he knew, and Scorpius dug deep, searching for excitement, but it wasn't there to be found.

He took the pouch from Draco's palm and opened it, letting the elegant platinum ring fall into his hand. It sparkled under the overhead lights, and Albus let out a soft hum of appreciation, looking over his boyfriend's shoulder.

"It's lovely," Scorpius said, holding it up to the light. It was simple – a single row of diamonds around the thin band with a larger round one set into the center and, most notably, it looked nothing like the ring Astoria was buried with.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Draco asked. Scorpius slipped the ring back into its pouch and slid it back to his father.

"Of course it is," Scorpius says. "Mum was clear that she wanted both of us to be happy. You and Dania love each other. I've seen how at ease you are with her. It doesn't need to be any more complicated than that."

Draco shook his head, smiling proudly at his son.

"I know you didn't get any of your wisdom from me," Draco said.

"Most certainly not. From you I got my hair and sarcasm."

"Those are Draco's best qualities," Albus said. Draco attempted a menacing glare, but couldn't manage it through his smile.

* * *

Christmas came faster than it ever had, and the cold and first dusting of snow brought unpleasant memories crashing down on both Scorpius and Albus.

It started the night Draco and Dania announced their engagement. They had a quiet dinner with their friends and family, so Scorpius found himself once again surrounded by Potters and Weasleys with a few obligatory Ministry and St. Mungo's officials thrown in. Scorpius had been so distracted that he hadn't looked at the weather forecast – spending long days at the archive and longer nights planning for Christmas and dealing with Albus' ill-advised sometimes-furry, sometimes-scaly house guests.

"I just think he really cares about them," Scorpius told Draco and Dania, rambling on about Albus' affinity with the creatures he worked with. It was the least painful topic he had. "Though I do wish they'd stop destroying the house."

When he looked out the window, glass of celebratory champagne in hand, and noticed that the snow had just started to fall, he thought of it – the long path into Hogsmeade in last year's firs snow flurry and Ainsley's voice echoing through the trees.

_She'll be home soon_ , Scorpius thought, but his own voice in his head felt distant and muted.

Albus wasn't immune. Late that night he half-slept sitting in bed while Scorpius dozed, his hands restless and moving between the pages of his book and Scorpius' hand, which stayed nearly-rooted to Albus' shoulder.

Scorpius spent most of the month going only between home and work and the manor. He did all of his Christmas shopping on one long, exhausting Saturday that culminated in him collapsing on the couch surrounded by bags and boxes that Albus had to tuck away to make the room livable again.

He deviated from that norm only on Christmas Eve. He warned Albus that he'd be late, and he left work early after wishing Jin a Merry Christmas, though he wasn't sure Jin heard him. He was distracted, knowing his wife would be arriving in London later that evening. It was the most he'd seen Jin smile since they'd met.

After visiting a particular store in Diagon Alley, Scorpius made his way to the Ministry with his head down, using the collar of his coat and an old sock cap of Albus' to hide what he could of his face. For good measure, he shoved his glasses in his pocket, hoping it would be enough to avoid being recognized.

He'd expected more of a line, but only a few families sat in the waiting room. They all left via Floo in the time it took for Scorpius to sign the waivers while awkwardly balancing the paper bag in his arm. The records were public, he knew, but it didn't matter now. It was too late for anyone to stop him.

The overworked official gestured him to the fireplace – a famously closed and controlled Floo connection that Scorpius had never had occasion to use. He wished he didn't have one now, but… well, he'd made his choice.

With great reluctance, he surrendered his wand.

He stepped into the fire and held his breath, trying not to give into the disorientation, because when he stepped out into the stone corridor of Azkaban on the other side, he wanted to have his wits about him.

Three guards waited on the other side – people he didn't know, and judging by the looks on their faces, people he didn't _want_ to know.

Scorpius silently handed his visitor's slip to the short, stalky guard that stepped forward. He examined it and raised his eyebrows at Scorpius.

"Is this right?" he asked gruffly. Scorpius nodded down at him as he put his glasses back on. Between the darkness and the blurriness, he would be a liability as soon as he took a step.

"Yes, sir."

The guard waited a moment, giving Scorpius time to change his mind, before turning on his heel and leading Scorpius down the hallway.

The prison was damp and dark. It was a cloudy day and Scorpius knew there was a storm coming in from the way the North Sea raged against the walls outside. He wasn't sure where he was in the compound – he suspected it wasn't near the outer walls at all – but still he heard the waves crashing violently.

They passed door after door as the guard led Scorpius down the hall, and his heart began to pound. He felt his pulse in his fingers and ears as they walked and he shifted the bag on his arms over and over again, just to have something to do.

He shook his head nervously, trying not to think about the unmarked doors that lined the corridors. Each one was Delphi's. Each one was Daphne's. Each cell belonged to a Death Eater who would rather see him and his father dead for their betrayal of the cause.

_"Such a shame_ ," Lucius had once said, _"that Azkaban holds some of the finest wizarding blood left to us."_

_Entire bloodlines will die here_ , Scorpius thought, but then remembered that he would be the end of his own bloodline. The guilt of not carrying on the Malfoy line or handing down the best parts of his mother to a child felt like a weight on his shoulders – one he could normally ignore but was near-crippling when disturbed.

"Here we are," the guard said, gesturing to one of the nondescript doors. It, like all the others, was unmarked, and Scorpius wondered vaguely how the guards knew which prisoners were in each cell. He didn't have the heart to ask as the guard unlocked the door with a series of complicated countercharms, stopping only to let a patrolling auror pass. Scorpius turned his face away.

The guard gestured him into the gray cell, and Scorpius entered to find its gray occupant seated at a weathered table dressed in prison garb and wrapped in a threadbare blanket. Only a few personal possessions could be seen in the room, and since the majority were black, they offered no cheer.

"Miss Parkinson," Scorpius greeted with a nod. Pansy stared at him, still and surprised, her face blank.

"Scorpius," she said finally. Scorpius wasted no time and moved to the side of the table opposite her, depositing the bag on its surface. Without hesitation, he began withdrawing its contents – ham, potatoes, fruit, pudding – all the best parts of a Christmas dinner.

"What is this?" Pansy asked, tearing her eyes away from the food and taking a deep breath. The smell of the meal had reached Scorpius, and he knew it had reached her too. He imagined it was the most pleasant thing she'd experienced in nearly a year.

"It's Christmas Eve," Scorpius said slowly. He met her eyes for the first time, and wasn't surprised at all to find tears in them. "Everyone deserves a decent meal on Christmas Eve."

He dug up a smile – the same forced one he'd been wearing for weeks – but it was enough for her. She smiled and nodded to him as he took a seat across from her.

"Thank you," she said quietly as Scorpius drew out two plates and rolls of silverware.

For a moment, she thought he'd meant for his visit, but when he looked up at her and saw a stray tear and the earnest look in her eyes, he knew she meant more.

* * *

Albus knew better than to speak when Scorpius arrived a half hour late to Christmas Eve dinner at the Potters' home. He hadn't expected Scorpius to take a detour home and go to Azkaban, but he wasn't exactly surprised when the owl came in for Harry.

"Do they notify you every time someone visits Azkaban?" Lily had asked when Harry read the note to Albus and Draco.

"Only when it's pertinent," Harry said with a finality in his voice that declared the subject closed.

Scorpius stumbled in looking a bit worse for wear, but still proper and straight-backed for the occasion. Albus breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his boyfriend's eyes were clear and untroubled.

"Where were you?" Draco asked. Albus wasn't sure if it was bait or a test. The hesitation on Scorpius' face said he wasn't sure either.

After a pause, Scorpius' mouth twisted into something like a smirk. Draco might have had an excellent poker face, but Scorpius' ability to read the people he loved was even better.

"Azkaban. To see Pansy Parkinson." Scorpius said. "Which you already knew."

"Why on earth would you go there without one of us?" Draco scolded as Scorpius passed him, reaching onto the already-set table to grab one of the fresh rolls from the bread basket. "You should have told me. I would have gone with you –"

"Nothing happened," Scorpius assured him, clapping him on the shoulder as he moved toward Albus, who stayed at his post by the kitchen door and firmly out of the altercation. He kissed Albus lightly, giving his side a squeeze before beginning to pick the roll apart and eat it.

He caught Ainsley's eye from across the room, but she looked away quickly, suddenly very interested in whatever Harry and Rose were saying.

"Just because nothing did happen doesn't mean something couldn't have happened," Draco said. Albus knew was the same argument Draco had used when Scorpius would do something reckless and ill-advised as a child.

The only difference Scorpius saw was that Draco couldn't send him to his room now, though the twitch in Draco's pale eyebrow clearly said he wished he could.

Thankfully, Dania arrived at Draco's side a moment later and he calmed as she started asking whether or not he'd brought all the presents – specifically the one Scorpius had requested - or if he'd decided to wait until tomorrow.

"Are you okay?" Albus asked Scorpius quietly, tugging him closer by the hem of his sweater. "I was worried when you were late, and then dad got that owl –"

"I'm fine," Scorpius assured him. Albus scanned his face for any sign of unhappiness or uncertainty. Scorpius may have become skilled at reading people, but Albus was the leading expert on reading Scorpius.

"If you're sure," Albus said slowly. Scorpius nodded, but Albus knew _fine_ didn't mean _happy_ , so when Scorpius' hands were free of the bread, he took them and held onto them until the family beckoned them for dinner.

* * *

"Are we doing this or not?" Draco sighed at Scorpius' side. The Potters and Weasleys had resigned to the sitting room with their drinks and desserts, and Scorpius watched from the doorway as they began tossing presents to one another.

"Just give me a minute," Scorpius said. He moved around until he caught Lily's eye and gestured for her to come over. She reluctantly pulled herself from the couch, leaving Ainsley, Rose and Hermione to talk, and sauntered over.

"I think I was finally getting somewhere with Rose!" she complained. "She never talks about her mystery man."

"You can go back in a minute," Scorpius said. He looked at Dania, who withdrew a small vial from the pocket of her coat.

"You need to take this," Dania said, holding it out to Lily who immediately leaned away, skeptical.

"That looks disgusting," she said of the brown liquid. "What is it?"

"It's an allergy potion," Dania explained. "You… well, you need to drink it."

"Just trust me," Scorpius said. "Please."

Lily sneered at him and looked between the trio of Malfoys and soon-to-be-Malfoys, then took the vial from Dania's hand.

"Only because you asked nicely," Lily said. Draco was already gone by the time she unstoppered the vial and drank its contents. She cringed at the taste.

"Sorry," Dania said. "It's possible to make it more pleasant but we didn't have the ingredients on-hand."

"I'll make sure I keep them at home," Scorpius told her.

"What? Why?"

"Just… hold on," Scorpius said. He looked over her shoulder at Albus who was seated in front of the fire, gesturing wildly to his Uncle Charlie – most likely about a dragon.

A minute later, Draco returned with a large green box in his arms. He struggled to balance it, but it kept moving in his arms. Scorpius took it quickly, feeling a small swell of expectant happiness as he did.

"What's that?" Ron asked from across the room. Albus and Charlie followed Ron's line of sight to Scorpius, who held the box tightly to keep it still.

"It's for Al," Scorpius said.

"We said we weren't doing big gifts," Al complained through an excited smile.

"Yes, well, this is as much for you as it is for me," Scorpius said. He muddled his way through the people scattered across the floor before kneeling in front of Albus and placing the box in front of him.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out," Scorpius said.

Albus reached for the lid, but the large bow on top quivered as the box jolted, and he withdrew his hand with skepticism.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Would I give you something dangerous, Albus?" Scorpius sighed. "Besides – you were playing with a Ukrainian Ironbelly last week like it was a kitten. Please open it."

Albus gave a hum of agreement before reaching down and lifting the lid off the box. He peered down into it, which was entirely unnecessary as a furry black and white head popped out of the box and looked around.

"Oh my God," Albus said, his eyes wide. Around them, a chorus of adoring sounds rose.

Albus stared down at the puppy – all fluffy hair and pointy ears – as it panted up at him, clearly relieved to be free of the box.

"Oh my God," Albus repeated, his green eyes wide and bright. The puppy jumped and placed its large paws on the edge of the box, and gave a 'yip' of excitement. The box shook as it wagged its tail at Albus, waiting.

Scorpius looked at Albus. Getting a dog without discussing it first sounded like a risky move, but Scorpius knew Albus, and Albus couldn't resist a face like that.

"I know you like them, so I went looking for a German Shepard," Scorpius explained. The puppy followed the sound of his voice and looked at him. "But this little guy was just too cute to leave behind and he was all alone. They said he's a mutt, but I figured you wouldn't care much. He'll probably grow up to be massive…"

Albus, still in shock, reached down and scooped the puppy up which earned him a small whine of appreciation. The dog had two black eye masks and his mostly was mostly black, broken by smaller patches of white. It licked Albus' face immediately when Albus held him against his chest. Charlie moved the box out of the way, looking equally excited about the new addition.

From across the room, Lily sneezed. Scorpius looked at her sympathetically, and she shrugged at him. He was glad to see she was smiling.

Scorpius looked back at Albus, who was now cradling the puppy and scratching its belly with a frighteningly wide grin on his face. Excited Albus with a puppy might have been the cutest thing Scorpius had ever seen, and he made a mental note to tell him about it later when his family wasn't listening.

"Do… do you like him?" Scorpius asked.

Albus looked at him, his cheeks flush with color. He was biting his lip to contain his grin and was failing miserably.

"Seriously? This is the best," Albus said. "Do you know how many Christmases I asked for a puppy."

"All of them," Ginny supplied.

"Every last one," Harry added.

"Your dad helped me pick him out," Scorpius explained. "But we didn't name him or anything."

Albus set the puppy on his lap, and the dog immediately rolled over onto its back and pawed at Albus' hand until he started scratching his chest again.

"I don't know…" Albus said. "I wasn't expecting a _puppy_. I wish James were here."

"You can show him tomorrow, hopefully," Ginny said sadly. Albus gave her a knowing look. James had been kept away on Gringotts business, and it was their first holiday without him.

"Dad said he'll look after him during the day until he's trained," Scorpius said.

"We had a few dogs when I was a child," Draco said. "Right up until father got rid of them in favor of the peacocks…"

Lily patted Draco on the back sympathetically.

For nearly a half-hour, everyone took turns petting the nameless puppy, shuffling over to where Albus sat to scratch him behind the ears and coo over his soft fur. Finally, when Harry had his turn, Albus jolted and grinned at Scorpius, who'd wedged himself between Charlie and Albus.

"I've got it!" Albus cried.

"Got what?" Harry asked, startled.

"His name!"

"Well?"

Scorpius rubbed the puppy's back as Albus grinned at him.

" _Salazar._ "

Harry and Ginny groaned ruefully while Draco let out a smug smile spread across his face.

"That's what you get, Potters," he said.

While Harry, Draco and Ginny began bickering (Harry insisted he was fine with all the founders of Hogwarts, while Draco noted that Harry's expression and Ginny's love of decorating with the color red said differently), Albus set Salazar down on the floor so he could wander about and explore.

"Will you stop bringing home destructive creatures now that you have one of your very own?" Scorpius said. He tried to sound exasperated, but seeing Albus so happy… well, he couldn't help but be a bit happy himself.

"Yes," Albus agreed. "Will Freya be okay with him?"

"Freya couldn't care less," Scorpius said. "Dad and I tested that out yesterday while you were out shopping with Lily."

"Excellent," Albus said, taking Scorpius' hand from his side and holding it in both of his own. "Thank you so much. I've wanted a dog forever."

"I've known you forever, Albus," Scorpius reminded him. "Your love of dogs and all furry animals is well-established."

"This is… infinitely better than last Christmas," Albus said, his smile faltering. Scorpius nodded. He couldn't remember much of last Christmas – the entire experience of being kidnapped blurred together – but he did remember having a spectacular nosebleed that morning when Travers came in to retrieve him…

"That was the point," Scorpius said. "I just wanted to do something to make you happy."

Albus looked at him for a moment as though he were searching for something and when he came up short he just slid closer to rest his head against Scorpius' shoulder. They watched Salazar chase Rose's hand across the floor, plopping his comically-large paws on the floor as he pounced.

"I love you," Albus said finally.

"I love you too."

* * *

To say that The Burrow was crowded was a sore understatement. For the first time in ages, the entire Weasley and Potter clan was gathered together with the addition of a few Delacours and the Grangers.

"And how exactly does this work again?" Mr. Weasley asked Mr. and Mrs. Granger, pointing to Mrs. Granger's smartwatch – a Christmas gift from her daughter. The Grangers, who had learned as much as possible about their daughter's adopted world, had become a fascination for Arthur Weasley, who still lit up whenever he found out they would be visiting.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure _how_ it works," Mrs. Granger said. "But here, let me show you this…"

Albus found their gentle handling of his over-excited grandfather to be endearing, and he watched closely as so many members of his family walked around them, careful not to interrupt what was undoubtedly the highlight of Arthur Weasley's week.

He walked through his family with Salazar in his arms. It took twenty minutes to cross the room to reach Scorpius with everyone stopping him to fawn over the puppy. Though he understood their fascination with the new addition, the delay irritated him. Something about this Christmas made him quite a bit clingier than usual.

"He's pretty cute," Teddy said, scratching at Salazar's ears. Victoire adjusted the dog's collar – a green and grey striped one that Draco had provided early in the morning. Albus suspected it was less of a gift and more of a friendly insult to Harry.

Albus excused himself politely, intent on finally sitting down next to his boyfriend (and possibly steal some of his hot cocoa) but spotted Ainsley nearby in a circle with Ginny and Rose – undoubtedly talking about Quidditch. Her face was a bit sullen in contrast to his mother and cousin's excited grins and wild gestures as they talked, so he detoured against his better judgment.

"Everything okay?"

Albus asked her, careful not to interrupt Ginny and Rose as they compared the offensive strategies of the two leading teams in the league.

"Yeah," Ainsley said with a somewhat forced smile. "Everything's fine. I'd just been hoping to see your brother during the break."

"I think we all were," Albus admitted, trying to ignore Salazar as he started to nip at his ear. "There was some sort of emergency. Bill didn't go, but he's been dealing with it all week too."

Ainsley shrugged sadly.

"I really wanted to find out how one of his cases ended up. He told me about it when he made it to one of my Quidditch games last month. He couldn't stay long, but it was nice of him to show up."

"Oddly enough, James can actually be nice when he's not being a complete git."

Rose, hearing Albus' tone, turned around.

"James is always a complete git," Rose added, earning a good-natured smack on the knee from Ginny.

"We'll be right over there," Albus told Ainsley, nodding to the fireplace before resuming his mission.

When Albus finally reached Scorpius' side near the fireplace, his leg was aching but he was happier than he'd been in ages. He said nothing as Scorpius took Salazar from his hands and cuddled him fondly.

"I'm glad he likes both of us," Albus said. "It would be awful if he didn't."

"I was more concerned with him taking to you," Scorpius admitted. "I know how badly you've wanted a dog."

Albus picked up Scorpius' mug and found it empty. He sighed in disappointment and instead invested himself in watching Scorpius play with the puppy.

Across the room, Albus' grandmother announced that it was time for presents and their yearly photo in their sweaters.

Albus groaned.

"But I just sat down."

Scorpius rubbed his back sympathetically, setting Salazar down on the floor to roam about. Across the room, Draco watched them closely from Dania's side.

"At least it's better than last Christmas," Scorpius said quietly.

Albus didn't have to agree. He just wrapped both his arms around one of Scorpius' and held onto him for a moment before they joined the rest of the family, and when they did, he held onto Scorpius' hand so tightly that his fingers went numb.

Albus was just about to complain about the huddle to receive their sweaters – it's not like they didn't all have several lurking in a dark corner of their closets – but Scorpius' excitement stopped him. He loved the damn things.

Mrs. Weasley handed out sweaters and small trinkets accompanied by kisses and hair-ruffling. She was always happy to have her family around at Christmas, but this year she seemed especially pleased – everyone was safe and well, and when she handed Teddy his sweater, the action seemed to bear more weight.

"Here you go, dear," she said, handing him the bundle. He unrolled it and grinned at the particularly bright yellow.

"Thanks, nan," he said. She beamed up at him.

"Oh, this is lovely," Victoire said, unrolling her light blue sweater. "It's a shame it won't fit in a couple months."

Teddy folded his arms against his chest, clutching his sweater in expectation. It took Albus a second to process Victoire's words – just like everyone else who was in earshot – and he didn't have time to warn Scorpius before it started.

The noise that escaped Molly Weasley was less human and more banshee, if banshees could scream and form words at a kilometer a minute simultaneously. Victoire jumped, still grinning, while Fleur, Bill, and the Delacours smiled knowingly from the edge of the throng.

Mrs. Weasley's arms were around Victoire and Teddy in seconds while she screamed and bounced.

"Oh, I'm so happy! A baby! Congratulations!"

She was sobbing in record time, Albus noticed. His grandmother was a tough woman, but she never hid her tears. He had seen her weep openly on more than one occasion, but he had never seen her go to full-on sobbing so quickly.

Within moments, Albus was pulled into a massive hug as his family congratulated the newlyweds on their recent addition. He watched them grin and hug their aunts and uncles and cousins, and Albus caught his father watching fondly from the side, his arms folded across his chest.

"Thank you," Victoire said repeatedly. Teddy beamed down at her, elated and proud and completely in love, and Albus couldn't help but smile too.

"A bit Veela and some Weasley with a chance of being a metamorphmagus?" Harry called over to Teddy. "Isn't that asking for trouble?"

Teddy gave a hearty laugh, wrapping both arms around Victoire's shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

"Aren't I always asking for trouble?"

The tone of the room had changed from quiet companionship and celebration to one of elation, joy and expectation. The effect wasn't lost on Albus and he looked around to find Scorpius, but could see him nowhere amongst his family. He was never hard to spot – he was very tall and his hair was very bright - and Albus panicked a bit until he spotted him back near the now-deserted fireplace with an unmistakable frown of sad contemplation on his face.

_Uh oh_ , Albus thought. He wove his way clumsily through his cousins, agreeing with him that this was absolutely the best Christmas news imaginable, until he found himself back where he started.

"Scorp?"

Scorpius just shook his head, starting as Albus' family calmed down, but still surrounded the young couple to ask questions.

"You're making a face," Albus said. "And not your happy 'it's Christmas' face."

"I have a particular expression for Christmas?"

Albus hummed an affirmative. "It's not unlike your 'oh, good – Pepper Imps,' or 'fresh bread' face."

Scorpius couldn't help laughing, and Albus plucked a bit of dog hair from the leg of his trousers. He stayed silent, and it took a few more minutes of watching Ginny, Fleur and Molly excitedly discuss baby-things for Albus to understand.

"Oh."

Scorpius leaned forward onto is knees and played with his shoelaces, remaining silent.

"I just…" Albus started. "I always just assumed we'd adopt someday."

Scorpius looked at him, clearly calculating Albus' face. Albus hoped he didn't come up wanting.

"Yeah?"

"There's always kids that need homes," Albus said. "And I… well, I think you'd be a good dad."

"It never hit me until right now how much I want a family," Scorpius admitted, his voice tentative and unsure as he turned toward Albus. "I guess I'd considered it vaguely. In passing. But never…"

"I do too," Albus agreed. "I haven't considered it a ton, but I never doubted that it was something we would work out someday. I never thought to bring it up."

Scorpius' mouth slowly pulled into a smile.

"We'd be great parents."

"I wouldn't go that far," Albus said. "We'd be passable parents. Our kids would survive to adulthood. That's the only expectation I'd have."

As Scorpius laughed, Albus spotted James entering the room windswept and wild-looking with his hair sticking out at odd angles, several days of stubble on his chin, and snow on his shoulders.

"I made it!" James yelled. He looked over the scene in the room and scratched his head as cousins yelled greetings and assaults on his tardiness across the room. "What did I miss? I missed something."

He was quickly pulled into the swell of congratulations and sweater distribution.

"I can catch up with him later," Albus said. James waved at him over Ginny's head as Molly conveyed the good news, and Albus gave him a nod back.

"You two are very different," Scorpius noted. "But you seem to get each other."

"I like to think so."

"I really wish I got along better with him," Scorpius sighed. "Lily likes me just fine!"

"Everyone likes you," Albus countered. "James just… took it hard that I didn't need him once I got to Hogwarts and had you."

Scorpius accepted their sweaters from Rose, who had been given distribution duty. When he thanked her, she ruffled his hair before walking away.

"See?" Albus said. "Everyone likes you. And Rose doesn't like anybody."

Scorpius fell into a state of comfortable quiet as the atmosphere calmed, which suited Albus just fine. Eventually, Scorpius lay his head on Albus' shoulder and watched Salazar move from person to person, seeking head scratches.

"We should focus on raising a puppy first," Scorpius said.

"Agreed. Like a test run."

Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius' shoulders and held him close to his side, protective and comforting. They sat still and watched Albus' family talk and hug and laugh, content to be bystanders together for the time being. He wasn't entirely sure why Scorpius had been so depressed and quiet. Though he'd expected this Christmas to be difficult, he'd never encountered a topic they couldn't discuss, but he gave him his space none the less.

_He'll come around_ , Albus thought.

After a while, though, something caught Scorpius' attention.

"Oh!" Scorpius yelped, shaking Albus' arm urgently and pointing towards the stairs. "Look! It took long enough!"

__

 

At James' request, Ainsley had taken off her Hufflepuff Quidditch jumper in favor of her new one bearing her first initial.

"Burgundy?"

James shrugged at her, still rubbing his hands together fervently to warm them. The walk from outside the wards wasn't short, and he'd caught a chill on the trek to The Burrow's door.

"It's a good color," James said. His own sweater was charcoal grey, which she liked, but more importantly it was both warm and dry, unlike the jumper he'd peeled off moments before.

Ainsley looked down at the 'A' staring back up at her and smiled despite her doubts.

"I'm not sure I deserve this," she said. "I'm a cousin of your brother's boyfriend. That's a bit of a reach, isn't it?"

"Nonsense," James told her with finality. "Besides, it looks good on you."

Ainsley quirked a half-smile at him.

"You were late," she said, accusing.

"I know," James replied, softening. They sat down side by side on one of the steps, and Ainsley twisted her bracelet nervously around her wrist as she'd been doing all day. Despite the warm welcome she'd received from Draco and Dania upon arriving home (which involved pre-Christmas presents and her favorite kind of cake) and the Christmas greetings she'd received from the Potters and Weasleys, she felt detached again, like she had at Victoire and Teddy's wedding.

"I was in Cambodia. It couldn't be helped," James explained. "Some wizard was steaking valuables from muggle homes and leaving behind curses to make the muggles forget they'd ever owned the items – over a hundred thousand galleons worth, when it was all tallied up! But he was getting reckless and his charms were having some nasty affects. The one man remembered owning this antique locket – worth quite a bit – but completely forgot how to operate his left arm when he touched its case. It was mad."

"That sounds awful," Ainsley admitted. "And fascinating."

James laughed, and Ainsley noticed he was paler than she'd ever seen him – possibly thinner too. He'd always been strong – both of the Potter boys seemed to take after their Uncle Charlie in that department, and Charlie was undoubtedly the strongest of Molly and Arthur Weasley's sons – a fact he never let his brothers Bill and Percy forget (Ron, as far as Ainsley could tell from snippets of banter, never seemed to mind).

But that didn't stop James from looking drawn and tired – completely void of his usual boundless, mischievous energy.

"Are you okay?"

"Just been working a lot," James said. "I'm sure I look awful. I've been traveling since yesterday afternoon. I really wanted to get back here."

She wanted to ask why, but Harry approached with Mrs. Weasley in tow. He was already in his 'H' sweater and his glasses were smudged from helping in the kitchen. Sometimes it still amazed Ainsley that she spent time with the legendary Harry Potter and that he greeted her with a hug and asked how she was doing.

They both looked rather at-ease with a dusting of flour on their hands as Mrs. Weasley handed her grandson a mug of coffee.

"Thanks, gran," James said with a relieved sigh. He took a long drink immediately and swore she could see the color come back to his face immediately.

"Are you doing alright, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Long few weeks," James said. "I've been gone since the first week of December."

"You didn't tell me that in your letters," Ainsley said, accusing. James gave her a sheepish look and shrunk back against the wall.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Great job with the sweater colors this year," Harry said to Mrs. Weasley, pointing to James and Ainsley. She smiled proudly. "Those look really good on them."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Ainsley said. "I'm really grateful. I don't think I've ever had someone take the time to make me something like this before."

Sometimes, Ainsley said things that made her sad and didn't realize it until after the words were already out.

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. She reached out and pinched James' cheek, which he allowed with strained tolerance. "Anything for Jamie's girlfriend."

Harry's eyes widened. He placed a hand on Mrs. Weasley's arm.

"Actually, Molly –"

"That's sweet," Ainsley interrupted, unsure where the words or the boldness came from. She felt a sudden weight of uncertainty in the put of her stomach as James busied himself with his coffee again. "I really do appreciate it."

Satisfied, Mrs. Weasley turned, giving Harry a pat on the shoulder as she adjusted her apron and headed back to the kitchen. Harry gave James a questioning look before following her.

Though Ainsley made sure she didn't look at James, she was very much aware that he was looking at her. Why hadn't she let Harry correct Mrs. Weasley? It was simple – she _wasn't_ James' girlfriend – and she had no reason to say that…

She snuck a look at James. That warm, confident, playful smile – that was why she'd done it. Because James had never pushed her. He'd never asked her to be more or less than what she was, and he'd waited for her.

Because she _really_ liked him, and she'd never _really_ liked anyone before. So what was wrong with letting him know that?

"About that…" he said, unable to stifle his laugh.

"Shut up," Ainsley said, playing with the sleeves of her sweater. Her cheeks and ears were furiously red and she wanted to hide until her heart stopped pounding.

"I don't want to shut up," James said. "I want to talk about it.  You just told my grandmother that you're my girlfriend."

"Actually, I simply didn't argue with her."

"Same thing, Ainsley." James said. She finally looked up at him, leaning onto her hands, her feet nervously tapping at the stairs. She was ready for a quick getaway.

James set his mug down by his feet and looked at her, his grin crooked and mischievous.

"Don't look at me like that," Ainsley said.

"Like what?" James asked, completely aware of how he was looking at her. Her face burned.

"Like you've won something."

"Oh, but I have," James assured her. "It's been a year since I met you, and I've been smitten ever since."

"Did you actually just use the word _smitten_ to describe yourself?"

"Yes, and I think that's a first."

Ainsley smiled. James wasn't mad – in fact, he looked elated – and her heart started to calm down.

"You're incorrigible."

"You _like it_ ," James countered. Ainsley sighed in resignation.

"Yes, I do."

James smiled at her for a moment longer before sliding closer – not that there had been much space to close – and Ainsley wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She felt him bury his face in her neck as he hugged her back, and a shiver ran down her spine.

It was then that she figured she should warn him – that she'd only been on a couple Hogsmeade dates and had never kissed _anyone_ – but he was so warm and smelled so good that she didn't want to ruin it, and by the time James pulled back, it was too late.

James kissed her tentatively – as if she hadn't just told his grandmother they were together. As if they hadn't known each other a year. As if she wasn't wearing a Weasley sweater and hadn't spent the entire semester exchanging letters with him.

As if he were afraid she was going to run away.

She kissed him back as best she could, nervously following his lead, and walked her fingers down his arm until she found his hand and laced her fingers with his. He laughed against her lips, and she smiled (was that allowed when you're kissing someone? She wasn't sure of the rules) until he finally broke away and looked at her.

"I really like you," James said as if it were a confession.

"I really like you too," Ainsley said, squeezing his hand. His skin was rough and dry and warm only where he'd held his coffee. She bit her lower lip – it still tingled where he'd touched her – and he ran one of his hands up and down her back. It was something she'd seen Albus do with Scorpius a million times, and she began to wonder where they'd picked up that habit – was it a Weasley thing? Something Harry did?

She didn't have time to wonder too much. James kissed her again and she stopped thinking beyond his hand on her side and the contented sounds he made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Happy Hannakuh, and Happy Festivus! I hope wherever you are, you're having a wonderful holiday season.
> 
> Be back soon with Chapter 8.


	8. Year

As a child, Albus had always struggled to identify with his family, and by the time he was ten, he realized it was a cruel trick of fate that the family member he could have most looked up to was the one who was present the least. Albus could remember each time Uncle Charlie came to visit before he went to Hogwarts because he'd committed each event to memory as best he could. He'd listen intently from parents' side while Charlie told stories of his travels and the dragons he'd worked with. Charlie's presence was a rare event and was exciting enough that Albus would forego his normal habit of slipping off at the first opportunity to read or sulk.

So, when spring came and Albus started working solely with some baby Welch Greens at Magorian's request, it was no surprise that he ran through Charlie's stories in his head while he tended to their needs and listened to their tiny, pleasant sounds as he fed them.

Albus held one of the small dragons and ran his finger along the small, developing ridge on its back. It let out a small, sing-song cry of comfort and closed its small brown eyes.

"Someday you'll be bigger than this room," Albus said softly. "And we'll take you to the preserve up in the mountains where you'll be safe."

Albus smiled and gently set the dragon back in the habitat and watched as it fought one of its siblings for the best napping place in the terrarium before summoning the care log from across the table and jotting down the dragons' feeding schedule.

"Magorian Smith!" a familiar voice called from across the room. Nearby, Magorian jolted and stood, setting down one of the unidentified eggs they'd been brought earlier in the week.

"I know you didn't find a nest of Hebridean Blacks and neglect to tell me!"

Albus leaned over to look around Gwendolyn Timms – a rather prickly older woman whose habit of wearing large witch's hats seemed to be compensation for her lack of magical talent – and saw Charlie Weasley striding into the room.

"Uncle Charlie!"

Charlie's face brightened when he saw his nephew. He looked different than he had a few months ago when Albus had last seen him at Christmas. His hair was shorter, exposing the graying patches along his temples, and he was wearing what Albus now knew to be field gear. His vest and pants had many pockets, and Albus wondered what he carried to care for dragons on a daily basis.

Albus tapped the edge of the terrarium with his wand to create an invisible barrier before sliding from his seat and started limping over to Charlie, who was warmly embraced by Magorian.

"I'm still not sure how you've kept all your fingers and toes," Magorian said to Charlie, releasing him.

"You and me both," said Charlie as Albus reached him. Before Albus could greet him, Charlie had his arms around his nephew's shoulders, hugging him tight.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Albus said in mock protest.

"I didn't know I was until a few days ago," Charlie said, releasing Albus and ruffling his hair. Albus groaned and tried to smooth it back down to no avail.

"I heard a rumor that you found some young Hebridean Blacks," Charlie said.

Magorian shook his head sadly. "They were Welch Greens, I'm afraid," he said.

"Ah," said Charlie, clearly disappointed. Albus wasn't sure why they seemed unhappy – Albus thought the hatchlings were absolutely adorable. He looked over his shoulder and saw movement in the terrarium. Two of the less-lethargic ones seemed to be wrestling.

"I rather like them," Albus said quietly.

"Welch Greens are the easiest to work with," Charlie said. "But the baby teeth of a Hebridean Black have excellent potions applications."

Albus jumped and nearly lost his balance as the Kneazle he'd worked with wound its way around his legs in its lazy journey across the room.

"Albus here is excellent," Magorian said, slapping Albus on the shoulder. "I knew if he was anything like you, he'd have a way with the creatures, but he's really gone above and beyond."

"So I've heard," Charlie said with a smirk. "His boyfriend was complaining about an incident with a Niffler at Christmas."

"That's how I wound up with a dog," Albus explained to an amused Magorian. "I've always wanted one and he figured it would stop me from bringing home 'work friends'."

"How is Salazar?" Charlie asked.

"Zar? Oh, he's a terror," Albus said, grinning at the thought. "I thought he'd grow into this regal kind of animal when I named him, but he's a complete lunatic. Rose came over last week for dinner and he wouldn't stop licking her ankles. He's way too energetic."

"You love it."

"Scorp _hates_ it. He won't stay off the bed."

"You want to take a look at these dragons, yeah?" Magorian asked Charlie, who looked excited at the suggestion.

They wandered over to the table where the Welch Green hatchlings and other dragon eggs were kept, and Charlie immediately began examining the eggs. Albus, to preserve his energy for the rest of the day, climbed back into his seat as quickly as possible, eager to listen to Charlie's assessment.

After a few minutes, Charlie and Magorian started working through the logs and checking out the dragons. Albus flushed with pride when Charlie praised the records and terrarium.

"That was all Albus here," Magorian said. Charlie looked at Albus with surprise. "I was out sick last week when these came in. I hear Albus took care of the incubators and set everything up."

"I see my ranting over the years hasn't gone to waste," Charlie beamed.

"Just because I didn't do what everyone told me to do doesn't mean I wasn't listening," Albus said.

"Albus was a very difficult child," Charlie said to Magorian, and Albus knew he should be insulted, or at least somewhat irritated, but he was entirely too happy to see Charlie to care.

Magorian and Charlie chatted about the dragons while Albus coddled the smallest of the hatchlings, listening intently. Charlie told Magorian about his return to Romania and his visit with the dragons he'd worked with years ago.

"It's insane how some breeds can remember faces for so long," Magorian said, shaking his head. "I can't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"Speaking of meals," Charlie said, looking down at Albus. He had the small hatchling cradled in the crook of his arm and was letting it playfully nip at his fingers. "Al, lunch?"

"Sure!" Albus said, a little too excitedly. He couldn't remember the last time he had the opportunity to talk to Charlie one-on-one without his siblings and cousins interrupting – he wasn't the only one who found Charlie novel.

Albus settled the dragon back in the terrarium. It tried desperately to follow his hand until Albus tapped the edge of the enclosure with his wand, sealing it again.

"I'll be back soon," Albus promised the dragon, knowing it wouldn't understand. It cried out mournfully, and for the briefest moment Albus considered tucking it in the pocket of his robes. Instead, he regretfully and slowly followed Charlie towards the exit.

"Magorian seems to like you," Charlie said.

"He said he picked me because of you," Albus admitted. "It's the first time someone's paid attention to me because of my family and it _wasn't_ because of dad."

"That must be frustrating," Charlie said.

Albus hummed in agreement as they entered the cavernous corridor. Muffled roars and cries from creatures and human voices echoed down the hall, and Albus tried, as usual, to identify each of the animals' calls as he walked.

 _Kappa. Pixie. Thestral_. _Fwooper_.

_Hippogriff! I didn't know we had a Hippogriff down here –_

"-Potter? Oh, he's not all he's cracked up to be."

Charlie stopped in his tracks and tilted his head toward the stray voice, and Albus stopped beside him.

"Surely they didn't select him on his name alone," said another voice. Albus frowned and looked over his shoulder, his grip on his cane loosening.

"Not his name alone, I'm sure," came the first voice. Albus saw shadows moving from an alcove by the window – one he often used to enjoy some quiet at lunch time. "But he is crippled, queer, and a Potter. I suppose that's enough."

Albus shrugged to himself and kept walking in the opposite direction, leaving Charlie several paces behind.

"Albus?" he hissed, catching up quickly. He caught Albus' wrist and he could feel the broken callouses on his uncle's hand.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say something? Do you know who that was?"

"Yeah, it was Gwendolyn," Albus said. "What of it?"

"You can't let people go around talking about you like that," Charlie hissed at him. Albus raised his brows in amusement.

"That? Oh, that's nothing," Albus said. "Frankly I'm more concerned with whether or not you've been taking care of your hands properly – that looks painful. I'm pretty good with potions. We should run by the apothecary downstairs. I'm sure I could –"

Albus was silenced by the appalled look on Charlie's weathered face. He stared at him, agape for a moment before Albus, baffled, kept walking. Charlie walked beside him, silent until they reached the atrium and headed toward the designated apparition point.

"That doesn't bother you at all?" Charlie asked finally.

"No, but clearly it bothers you," Albus said with a smile. "It's fine, Uncle Charlie. That's really nothing. You should have heard some of the things said about us back at Hogwarts."

"But it's not right, Al," Charlie protested.

Albus sighed and shook his head. "Your concern is touching. Really. And I appreciate it. But honestly, Uncle Charlie – I'm just happy you're here. Can we go get lunch instead of worrying about what some bitter old woman said?"

At last, Charlie's face broke into a wide smile, accenting the exaggerated lines around his mouth and eyes.

"No one ever gave you enough credit, boy," Charlie said. "You're tougher than dragon hide."

Albus didn't feel particularly tough when he had to rely on a cane and take a break halfway when he visited another wing of the building, but if Charlie thought he was resilient, then it was a start.

* * *

"Hand me that quill, would you?" Jin asked across the table, fully immersed in a stack of old records and scribbled accounts.

Scorpius, whose attention was on in his own stack of parchment, held his hand out, letting the quill glide into it before handing it to Jin, barely looking up.

With the entirety of the basement newly sorted and half-cataloged, Jin had asked Scorpius to help him compile notes and passages for the book on Asian wizards in England and their lost practices before 1700. Scorpius was all too happy to oblige ("I'm doing actual historian things!" he'd all but sang as Albus cooked dinner) and found that he had a real talent for writing interesting passages about otherwise boring events.

Scorpius wrote and wrote, consulting the yellowed parchment, his hands covered in ink and dust. It wasn't until the old clock chimed across the room that he looked up and realized it was well after 6 o'clock.

"Oh, no," Scorpius muttered.

"What?" asked Jin blankly.

"I'm going to be late for dinner," Scorpius said. "It's my father's rehearsal dinner."

Scorpius grabbed a bottle of cleaning potion Albus had brewed for them off the corner of his desk and quickly cleaned the ink from his hands and wrists. Though he was excited to see his father and Albus' family, he was a bit reluctant to leave a half-finished passage on his desk.

"Shouldn't you have taken the day off, then?"

"Oh, they're keeping this small," Scorpius said. "Dania says she doesn't need a big wedding and… well, father said his wedding to my mother was spectacle enough."

Jin smiled tiredly, looking up from his work for the first time.

"Well, I hope you have fun," he said. "And thank you for your help."

"Thank _you_ for letting me help," Scorpius said. "This is great."

"I'm glad you think so," Jin said, "since I've already handed in the paperwork to name you co-author."

Scorpius went still in the process of pulling on his robes, leaving his collar askew.

"Pardon?"

Jin folded his hands atop his parchment and looked over at Scorpius, who had gone increasingly pale.

"I did it this morning," Jin said, nonchalant. "You've written at least a third of this and frankly I'm rubbish at organizing things. I never would have been able to pull all of this together."

"That's very kind of you, but –"

"Take credit where you deserve it, Scorpius," Jin commanded. "You're very good at this, and frankly you deserve a break."

Scorpius opened his mouth to protest again – this was Jin's project to prove himself and take his place at Mahoutokoro, and Scorpius had only been assigned to help him find things because it was convenient. He'd only started helping with the writing because it was fun and he wanted to learn Jin's research methods.

He must have stayed silent for too long, because Jin, who was normally very stoic and calm, smirked at him.

"Well?"

"Thank you," Scorpius said. "I-I don't know what else to say."

"Say that you'll have a good weekend and enjoy your father's wedding," Jin said. He pointed at Scorpius' scattered desk with the edge of his quill. "And that you'll finish that chapter on Monday."

"Y-yes. Of course!" Scorpius promised. "First thing."

"You better hurry, then," Jin said, grinning and nodding to the door. Scorpius looked at his watch and bolted towards it, already late.

"Have a good weekend!" he called over his shoulder. "And thank you!"

* * *

The second wedding of Draco Malfoy was a surprising in many ways.

The first was that it was a small, intimate affair. Upon announcing their engagement, the Daily Prophet had expected the wedding to be the social event of the spring, but Draco had turned down their offers for coverage and had instead accepted Hermione's offer for additional security to ensure no reporters from the school of Rita Skeeter would infiltrate the Malfoy Manor's grounds.

The second was that he had a Best Man - something he'd opted out of during his first wedding because he couldn't reconcile including any of his Hogwarts cohort in anything involving Astoria.

The third, and possibly most surprising, was that Harry Potter and a contingent of Weasleys were present, standing around him and his new wife as witnesses.

The wedding was held at the Malfoy Manor on a Saturday evening. Early on, Ainsley and Albus placed the torches placed around the garden with a potion to attract fireflies, and by the time the ceremony began, the air around them was alive with small, flickering, living lights.

Albus watched from the side as Scorpius handed Draco the rings – smiling all the while. He was happy to see his father happy, and Albus looked at his parents, leaning into one another next to him. Harry and Ginny seemed content to have an easy night together.

Could he have been happy if either of his parents were to remarry after the other had passed? There were so many bad raids in Harry's history and Ginny was known to be reckless. There were many times he could have lost a parent, and Albus wasn't sure he would have had Scorpius' strength to be content with one of them moving on.

But that, Albus thought as he watched Scorpius wink at Ainsley, was what made him special. Scorpius Malfoy was resilient and he could accept things for what they were. It had taken Albus years (and quite a beating) to develop an ounce of that skill and Scorpius had it in spades.

When Hermione – who had agreed to perform the ceremony with just a hint of smugness – pronounced Draco and Dania husband and wife, Scorpius clapped enthusiastically. Albus watched the lightness in his face grow as Harry and Ginny mused that of all the things they ever thought they'd do, attending a Malfoy wedding hadn't been on the list.

"It won't be the last one you go to," Albus interrupted, surprising even himself.

He didn't need to look away from his boyfriend, who was now hugging Draco and Dania as the small congregation of friends and colleagues broke into organized chaos, to know his parents were staring at him. Albus watched Scorpius, his intent expression breaking into a smile only when Scorpius waved him over.

"Is that so?" Harry asked after a beat.

"Absolutely."

* * *

The summer rain felt cold. Ainsley wrapped her jacket tight around herself as she walked from the Leaky Cauldron, ripping off her Ministry of Magic visitors' badge and tossing it in a bin as she passed. As her boots splashed in puddles, she realized it must have been raining for hours and hours – and that it was nearly dark – she just hadn't been in London to know.

 _Above the bookstore_ , she told herself. _Number fifteen_.

She repeated the thought over and over to herself, whispering under her breath and using the words as a distraction from what she'd just done.

As she climbed the alley stairs towards the second level of the alley, she felt over the bracelet on her wrist, feeling for the new charm – a graduation cap that hung next to the Hufflepuff badger. It was a gift from Draco, given just before her graduation two days ago.

 _I'm so proud of you, Ainsley,_ he'd said. _And I'm honored that we get to be here with you_.

Scorpius had agreed, and she'd appreciated them truly and deeply, but it hadn't been quite right. Nothing had been quite right, and she'd foolishly thought she could remedy the situation.

Ainsley knocked on the door of number fifteen – one of the flats directly above Flourish and Blotts – and hoped she wouldn't be left waiting outside for too long. She was well and truly soaked and had begun to shiver.

The door swung open to reveal James in joggers and an old Hollyhead Harpies training tank. Ainsley forgot the rain and cold immediately. She'd never seen James any less than half-composed, and she's certainly never seen him barefoot in what appeared to be his makeshift pajamas. For a moment, the only things she could see were the freckles dotting his upper arms.

"Ainsley?"

"Um… hi."

James reached out and grabbed her sleeve, pulling her across the threshold a bit too roughly, and she stumbled directly into the kitchen of his small flat.

"Merlin, Ainsley. You're soaked."

"Sorry," she murmured. It was quiet, and she could hear the water dripping down to the file beneath her feet.

"Take your shoes off," James instructed, and she kicked off her canvas trainers while he ran off, disappearing into a back room. When he returned, she was peeling off her jacket. James took it from her quickly and wrapped a large towel around her shoulders. He'd charmed it to be warm and she was immensely grateful when the heat hit the back of her neck.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked, taking the jacket and tapping the edges of it to siphon of some of the water.

"I was coming back from somewhere," Ainsley said. "I just thought I'd see if you were home."

She realized now that this may have been an overstep. She'd never been to James' flat and hadn't given him fair warning.

James looked down at her dubiously. "You said you were busy tonight and that we couldn't go out until tomorrow."

"Well, I was busy," Ainsley defended. "I just… am not anymore."

James quirked a brow at her but said nothing and Ainsley looked anywhere but at his eyes. He dropped the matter, and she knew he was confident she'd tell him when she was ready.

"Come on. Let's get you something dry to put on."

James ushered Ainsley in past the entry way into the living room. He'd told her it was small, but he hadn't mentioned how cozy it was with a big, squishy couch and a muggle television hanging over a small, currently-cold fireplace.

"Mum decorated it. Said she wanted it to feel like home," James said, answering her unasked question as he crossed into what she assumed was the bedroom. "This place used to be Uncle Bill's before he got married and he's been renting it out ever since. I'm only here half the time, so it suits me."

Ainsley looked around, careful not to drip on anything other than the floor. She felt hollow and wrong, like she was somehow intruding on an otherwise peaceful evening for James. A mug of tea sat forgotten but still steaming on the coffee table next to a dog-eared book.

James returned with a pair of training shorts and another Harpies jersey.

"These will be big on you, but at least they're dry," James said. He pointed her toward the bedroom and she nodded, disappearing quickly.

James' bedroom was, unlike the rest of what she'd seen, very messy. This clothes were on the floor, along with a duffle bag and suitcase half-unpacked from recent travel. Ainsley spotted the crimson of his worn and beaten Gryffindor Quidditch robes in the corner of the open closet and the tie he'd worn to her graduation hanging off a lamp. She resisted the urge to tidy up, and instead peeled off her clothes.

After drying off and changing, Ainsley emerged, putting her glasses on.

"Don't see you in those often," James said, leaning on the kitchen door. He had a fresh mug in his hand and was steeping the tea impatiently. Ainsley held down her satisfaction when he looked her over and blushed a bit before looking down into the mug.

"My contacts bother me sometimes."

"Your contacts bother you when you've been crying," James corrected, his voice low and somewhat stern. She knew he wasn't angry at her – he was angry at whatever had brought her to his doorstep, soaked and upset.

Ainsley walked over to him and was pleased to smell peppermint tea – her favorite.

"That looks nasty," James said, pointing to a bruise on her now-exposed forearm. Ainsley looked down at it and shrugged.

"It's from the Quidditch final," she said. "Got this bruise and we still lost."

"That was two weeks ago," he reminded her.

"It just takes a while to heal sometimes," Ainsley said. "Healing potions never agreed with my stomach."

James frowned and, in a fit of overly-dramatic chivalry, drew her arm up and kissed the purple patch lightly. He rubbed the back of her hand lightly with his thumb, waiting.

"I went to Azkaban," she explained quietly. "I went to see my mum for the first time."

James regarded her for a moment, surprised, before setting the mug on the kitchen counter.

"Come here," he said and held out his arm – an invitation, not a demand. Ainsley was all too happy to oblige and she buried her face in his chest quickly. It was still an unfamiliar feeling. Though they'd sent letters constantly, she had only seen him a few times in the last few months, her graduation included.

It had been a long week with graduation, coming back to the Malfoy Manor, and working up the nerve to finally pay her mother a visit. Ainsley felt physically weak - like she'd been playing Quidditch for three days without rest.

More than that, she felt relieved.

She felt James rest his head atop hers – he was so very tall – and she relaxed for the first time that day, breathing in the smell of his shirt.

"I'm glad you're here," James muttered against her hair.

"She was awful," Ainsley whispered, still unsure of whether she wanted to talk about it, but once she did, it all spilled out. "For a moment, she seemed sane. She asked about school and I told her I'd graduated. She asked where I was living and she seemed genuinely concerned, but then I said the word 'Malfoy' and she turned… unrepentant and hateful. She said awful things about Scorpius and your brother and father and even worse things about Draco."

James' hand moved in small, soothing circles between her shoulder blades, brushing at the edges of her hair. She turned her cheek against his chest.

"I always knew she was cold, but I don't know when she went crazy. She was alone so much while I was at school."

"It's not your fault," James said, pulling away just enough to kiss her forehead. He grabbed the tea and pressed the mug into her hand before ushering her gently toward the sofa. He grabbed his wand from a nearby table, aimed it at the fireplace and seconds later the small logs were burning. Satisfied, he sat down beside her and Ainsley immediately curled up into his side.

Ainsley was thankful that he didn't press her, and she sipped at her tea both to warm herself and to keep her hands busy for a moment. They sat in silence while she finished her tea, and once she set the mug aside, James seemed satisfied that she was alright.

"I asked to be taken out of the travel rotation for a bit," James told her. She sat up and looked at him, but held onto the hand that rested on her shoulder.

"Why? You love your job."

"I knew you would be around more," James said. He looked down at her, vulnerable and open. She slid closer to rest her legs across his lap. "I was hoping that if I was in town, maybe we could spend some more time together."

"Like an actual relationship," Ainsley added, her mouth curving into a smile. "Not just letters and Hogsmeade when you can make it."

"Exactly! We can go out for dinner, we can see more muggle films," James began, ticking off the possibilities on his fingers. "We can go places on the weekends. We can play games – I don't know if you're any good, but Albus said he wanted someone decent to play chess with and that's certainly not me – and I've been meaning to see my cousins more anyway. Rose has been kind of depressed lately – so maybe we could all get together? I think you'd like them if -"

Ainsley listened as he rambled, smiling and content. For months she'd been hearing his voice through his sloppy handwriting with no confidence that she was getting it right but satisfied with her imaginings none the less. Now, she was reminded that the real thing was infinitely better.

"Do you want to go flying next weekend? We can make a trip of it for your birthday. We could go out to the countryside or to the coast – whatever you want."

He was bright and eager and Ainsley knew exactly how he'd managed to date half the girls in his year. Once, that had bothered her. She'd thought James only liked her because she was in some way unreachable – a challenge to be met. But now he'd changed his job and wanted to go flying with her after she'd come to his door unannounced and soaked.

He had all the options the wizarding world could offer, and he'd chosen to stay close to home – to stay close to her.

"Whichever you prefer," she said, her mother's shrill voice fading quickly in light of James' smile. "I'm up for an adventure."

He grinned and Merlin, it was infectious. She couldn't think of anything else except kissing him, so she did, calm with the promise that this could be her new normal, and that was all she'd been looking for.

* * *

Scorpius had thought watching Albus bond with his dog had been the cutest thing he'd ever see, but he found out one weekend in the middle of summer that he was horribly, horribly wrong.

Albus waiting impatiently to hold Teddy and Victoire's new baby – _that_ was the most adorable thing he would ever see.

Despite getting to The Burrow early for Sunday lunch with the intent to coddle the infant before the rest of the Potters and Weasleys could arrive, Albus had still had to wait his turn. Dominique and Louis were reluctant to relinquish their new niece – she was only a few days old - leaving Albus tapping his fingers impatiently on the couch next to them.

  
Scorpius watched from the doorway, sipping at a mug of cold pumpkin juice.

"You'd think that after all these years I'd get used to having babies in the family," Mrs. Weasley said. Scorpius jumped – he hadn't heard her approach – but smiled down at her. She was watching her grandchildren and great grandchild with enough fondness to fill the room.

"You don't get used to it? You have how many grandchildren?"

"Enough that I keep a list," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Enough that when all of you come over I have to make sure _all_ the plates and silverware are clean."

 _All of you_ , Scorpius noticed. She'd grouped him in with Albus and Victoire and James. He smiled down at his drink.

"It's different every time. I suppose there will be even more soon, with so many young adults in the family," she said. "They grow up so fast."

Scorpius hummed in agreement, though he'd never had the pleasure of watching younger siblings or cousins grow. He'd barely known Ainsley until she was already fifteen.

"What's bothering you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Scorpius stayed silent for a moment before answering.

"Dad and Dania are talking about having one," Scorpius said quietly. He hadn't even discussed it with Albus, but something about Molly Weasley always had him divulging whatever was on his mind. He supposed it was a power that came with being a grandmother, since he'd seen her do it on multiple occasions with Albus and Lily. "He asked if I'd be okay with it."

"And are you?"

She looked up at him and Scorpius could scarcely remember a time when he was shorter than her. Maybe the first time they'd met? He couldn't remember.

"I'm over the moon about it," Scorpius admitted. "Me _not_ being the last Malfoy? That's a dream come true."

"Why do you say you'd be the last?" Mrs. Weasley asked, folding her arms across her apron. "You and Albus could always adopt."

"I know," Scorpius said. "But my dad said something a while back about the Malfoy line ending and how it wouldn't be such a bad thing since my family's had such a long, not-good history and I just… I'd like him to see that he changed it for the better and could continue."

Mrs. Weasley stared at him like she was considering pinching his cheek as she often did. He expected an 'oh, you worry too much,' like he often got from Ginny.

"I think your father must see that with you," she said thoughtfully. "And it's great if they want to have children – isn't Dania a few years younger than him?"

Scorpius nodded.

"But any child raised by you and Albus would learn all the things your mother and father taught you, and they'd take that forward. You're not the end of the Malfoy line either way."

"I'm not sure I'd be a good brother," Scorpius admitted. "I'm pretty selfish. Only-child and all. I've always liked having dad to myself."

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Scorpius, you'd be an excellent brother. You learned from the best."

She pointed at Albus who was _finally_ taking the baby from Dominique's arms. He cooed down at her, grinning and reaching into the bundle of blankets to take her tiny hand. Lily stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder to look at her new cousin with the same adoring expression, her long red hair falling over Albus' shoulder.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed since he'd watched Albus comfort a thirteen-year-old Lily in the halls of Hogwarts, crying over some long-forgotten crush.

"He's a good brother," Scorpius agreed. "He's always watching and worrying about his family, even if they don't notice."

"We notice, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching up.

 _Ah,_ Scorpius thought, smiling. _There's the cheek-pinch._

He watched as Albus cradled the baby, arguing with Lily that he just got her and she could wait her turn like everyone else.

Across the room, Harry and Teddy entered the room. Scorpius couldn't be certain, but judging by tearful the look on Harry's face, Teddy had just told him the baby's name.

 _Harriet_.

* * *

"Well, look at you," Albus said as Scorpius came in from work, grinning. He was draped across the sofa with a book on his lap – not a common sight, exactly. Lately, Albus was more likely to be found in the television room Harry had set up, watching episode after episode of muggle shows. Scorpius joined in occasionally, but was more than happy to sit beside him with a blanket and a book, using Albus' back as a foot warmer.

Scorpius looked at the book on Albus' lap and grinned even more. It was the first editing print of Jin's book with Scorpius' name in small print at the bottom of the cover.

"So you got my package."

"Clearly," Albus said, picking it back up. "I spent the latter half of the day reading your chapter on Anglo-Asian relations in the 1600s to my baby dragons – well, they're hardly babies. They're as long as my arm now."

"And what did the dragons think?" Scorpius asked, taking his robes off and hanging them beside the fireplace. It was the first cooler day of autumn, and he'd seized the opportunity to wear the scarf Draco had brought back from his and Dania's honeymoon in Portugal. He hung it beside his robes, smoothing out the fabric before turning back to Albus.

"The dragons think the wizards of Britain owe the wizards of China quite an apology," Albus said.

"I'd have to agree," Scorpius said. For a moment, he thought about sitting on the other end of the couch, but decided Albus looked far more comfortable. He took the loosely-bound manuscript and set it aside before falling as gently onto Albus as he could. Albus groaned, but wrapped his arms around Scorpius' waist anyway while Scorpius settled with his head on Albus' shoulder.

"Comfortable?"

"Very," Scorpius assured him. By virtue of being a couple inches taller than Albus, Scorpius found that he often had Albus' head on his shoulder. He never minded, but every once in a while it was nice to turn the tables. Albus was quiet for a moment, letting Scorpius settle in and slide his hand under his shoulders.

"Merlin's pants!" Albus cried, jolting a bit beneath him. Scorpius grinned up at him deviously. "Your hands are freezing!"

"Basement doesn't warm up that much," Scorpius said. "And I've always had cold hands."

"Do you think you'll be moving up soon?"

Scorpius nodded as the now somewhat-adolescent Zar padded into the room to investigate. He was gaining weight and size quickly – Scorpius would be surprised if he weighed less than 30 kilograms once he was done growing.

He parked himself beside the sofa and waited for Scorpius to greet him, his patience waning after a moment when the humans didn't pet him. He started pawing at Albus' hand until he began to stroke Zar's fur. Across the room, Freya surveyed the scene and decided she didn't much care and rolled over on the windowsill.

"I got a lot of recognition, actually," Scorpius said, proud of himself. "Jin leaves for Japan today – they've offered him the job he wanted at Mahoutokoro."

"That's good news," Albus said. Scorpius rolled his eyes. Despite his insistence that no jealousy was warranted, Albus hadn't been good at hiding his envy. Though Scorpius knew he would miss working with his friend – and they were friends, Jin assured him, and he had a standing invitation to visit – at least some good would come of his departure.

  
_Then again_ , Scorpius thought, _jealous Albus is very attentive_.

"Yes," Scorpius agreed after a beat. Albus shifted his leg a bit, uncomfortable, and Scorpius was reminded why he was usually used as Albus' pillow.

"I'm very proud of you," Albus said quietly, carding his fingers through Scorpius' hair. "Really. I know it wasn't easy for you to get there. I'm sorry if I wasn't supportive enough."

"Are you kidding?" Scorpius said. "You've been great. And you've been working harder than ever."

"Well, at least I've stopped bringing my work home with me," Albus said. Scorpius felt him tense up underneath his hands – one of his many tells that something was up.

"That's been helpful," Scorpius agreed, waiting and rolling the back of Albus' collar between his fingertips.

Albus took a deep breath, and Scorpius braced himself.

"Magorian and Charlie submitted my name for a training program for magizoo rehabilitation specialists."

"Oh?"

"And I was accepted."

"That's great news!"

Scorpius drew himself back onto his knees, grinning down at Albus who wasn't smiling.

"I'm not trying to steal your thunder," Albus said, gesturing towards the book. "Actually, it's a bit the opposite. I'm not sure I'm going to take it."

"Why the hell not?" Scorpius asked, offended on his behalf.

"First of all, I'd be the youngest person there," Albus explained. "I'm only nineteen, but Magorian says I've got a talent with injured creatures."

"Albus Potter, savior of all the lost and broken things," Scorpius said with a smile. Albus rolled his eyes at the title.

"And it's really intensive. It's a six-month program and it starts at the beginning of January."

Scorpius was already outlining a dissertation on why Albus should take the offer in his head. "So?"

"It's six months at the preserve outside Castelobruxo."

 _Oh_.

Albus stared up at him, his lips pressed into a hard line.

"I wanted to tell you because I know it will come up. Charlie knows about it and Magorian isn't making it a secret that he's advocating for my advancement," Albus said.

Scorpius looked down at his hands, twisting the edges of his sleeves and catching a glimpse of the scars around his wrists. He was sure he knew why Albus wasn't inclined to take the offer – Brazil was very far away.

"Why don't you want to go, Al?"

Albus swallowed hard and Scorpius sat back on his heels between his knees. Staring Albus down was the only way to ensure complete honesty when he was upset, and Scorpius locked eyes with him.

"I haven't woken up apart from you since you were kidnapped."

Scorpius cringed. They normally called if _The Incident_ , if they called it anything at all. It had been months since they'd discussed it, which was just the way Scorpius liked it. Mention of it had Scorpius instinctively summoning the energy to warm his normally-cold hands and moving them to Albus' injured leg.

"The longest I've been away from you since we met was the summers at Hogwarts," Albus said. "Do you realize we've been living together for well over a year?"

Scorpius scowled at himself. He hadn't stopped to think about it.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go."

"I don't want to leave you here alone," Albus said. "And I don't want to go by myself."

"I could… go with you?"

Albus shook his head slowly. "It's a closed camp on a massive preserve."

"We could stay outside in the town. Maybe you could apparate out at night?"

Again, Albus shook his head.

"The point is that we're there and available 24/7 when creatures come in or when there's a crisis. And it doesn't matter – you're finally making headway at the archive. You co-authored a very well-reviewed book for Merlin's sake."

"They're not official reviews," Scorpius countered. "They're preview-reviews."

"Not the point."

Scorpius wracked his brain for possibilities.

"Maybe I could –"

"Scorp, it's not going to work," Albus said. "I'm just not going to go, but not telling you felt like lying, especially when I knew you'd find out anyway."

"You have to go," Scorpius said firmly, using every ounce of selflessness he had. "You have to. This is what you've always wanted to do and you love your job. I just need to know that they're going to accommodate your injury."

"Magorian said they knew when they accepted me," Albus said. "Not that everyone doesn't know about Harry Potter's crippled son. It's probably why they accepted me, come to think of it."

Scorpius glared at him.

"Don't start that. You're good at what you do. Like you said, Magorian is already talking about you moving up."

"Scorp –"

"Albus, please," Scorpius said, taking both his hands and holding them so tightly he was in danger of hurting him. "Don't skip this because of me."

"You still toss and turn in your sleep sometimes," Albus said quietly. Scorpius had to stop himself from trying to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead with his thumb. "You still… say things."

"I know."

"I don't want to leave you," Albus admitted. "And that's not just me worrying about you. I don't… I don't know how to do anything without you."

"Come on," Scorpius implored. "You can't pass this up. Besides, won't it help you further down the line? Those programs are the closes we have to colleges."

Scorpius watched him, eyeing the crease that formed between his eyebrows as Albus gently rubbed the rough rings around his wrists. Albus had his selfish moments, but Scorpius knew he'd never make a decision like this on his own. For a moment, Scorpius basked in the knowledge that Albus didn't want to leave him – that he was so reluctant to spend even a day apart – and he let that wash over him.

"Six months isn't that long, love," Scorpius said, though the thought of spending so long apart had his chest tightening. "You know you should do this."

Albus shifted uncomfortably around him and drew Scorpius back down to lay beside him with his head on Albus' arm – not the best pillow, but functional none the less.

"But I'll miss you," Albus said. "And I'll worry."

"And I'll write to you every day," Scorpius said. "Maybe we'll get those muggle phones?"

"I can't picture you learning how to use a cell phone or a computer," Albus said. "Though it would probably make your work easier, if Hermione is to be believed."

"I'd learn if it would make it easier for you," Scorpius said, muffled by Albus' shoulder. Albus' arm came around him and Scorpius found himself crushed against his boyfriend.

"I think mum worries that we're co-dependent."

"We _are_ co-dependent," Scorpius countered. "And I liked it that way – which is terribly selfish and sounds very possessive, now that I say it out loud, but you know what I mean - until right now when I realized it would keep you from doing what you love and doing something that's good for you."

Albus fell silent, his hand cradling the back of Scorpius' head as if he was afraid he'd run away otherwise. He lay there, silent, for several minutes before letting out a long sigh.

"So," Albus began. "We'll need to get phones."

* * *

Scorpius wrinkled his nose. Draco was pouring a healing potion onto his son's left hand with great distain, glaring between Scorpius and Albus. Clearly, this was not how he intended to spend the first Sunday afternoon tea of October.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he said. Behind him, Dania sipped her tea calmly, having done her job in creating the salve.

"Well, I didn't think the mobile would explode in my hand," Scorpius said.

"In his defense," Albus added, "we did get the best ones available to avoid any problems. And mine works just fine."

Albus drew out the black rectangle – identical to the one Scorpius had ruined – and Draco gasped.

"Put that away right now, Albus," Draco scolded. He looked back at Dania, who looked rightfully exasperated with her husband's reaction. "It might affect the baby."

Scorpius smiled and sighed. For the last three weeks since Draco and Dania found out she was expecting, Draco had been more protective and neurotic than Scorpius had seen him in years. He hadn't been like this since the last wave of Astoria's illness.

Draco had told him slowly and carefully over dinner, as if he'd expected Scorpius to be angry or upset, and had nearly had a panic attack when Scorpius buried his face in his hands, crying, until he realized the tears were from nothing less than happiness.

"Draco, dear," Dania said calmly. "It's not going to hurt anything. I've had one for years."

"I thought you stopped carrying it when you suspected out you were pregnant," Draco said. Dania sighed and reached into the pocket of her sweater and withdrew an older mobile phone.

"How else am I supposed to keep in touch with my _muggle_ father, Draco?" Dania asked. Draco looked scandalized, but wrapped Scorpius' hand in a thin bandage with the utmost delicacy. "I can't exactly send owls to the clinic he works at asking how his day is going."

"But look at what it did to Scorpius' hand!" Draco said, pointing.

"Why did it explode?" Scorpius asked her. "They seem to be fine with you and Albus."

Dania shrugged, shaking her head. "My only guess is that the strange current that runs through you must have caused a problem. The newer ones don't seem to have the problems the older ones did, and a lot of wizards who have muggle family and friends carry them. The most I've ever had is static."

"That's what my dad said too," Albus said. Draco scowled.

"We're _wizards_ ," Draco said. "We don't need muggle technology."

"I just wanted to be able to talk to Albus while he's away," Scorpius said, feeing scolded.

"Have you told your parents you're leaving?" Draco asked Albus, taking a seat next to Dania.

"Yeah," Albus said, rolling his wand between his fingertips lazily. "They were happy for me."

Draco hummed in noncommittal recognition. Scorpius knew Draco wasn't pleased with Albus' leaving, despite being happy he was doing well with his job. He'd already urged Scorpius to move back into the manor temporarily, but Scorpius stood firm – he wasn't leaving his home, and he certainly wasn't going to intrude when he and Dania were expecting a baby.

"Are you happy?" Dania asked. Albus looked surprised at the question, and didn't answer immediately.

"I'm excited to learn more," Albus admitted sheepishly, as if he were guilty about his happiness. "And I’m glad to be recognized like this. And I'll get to work with some creatures I've never seen before.

"But no. I'm not happy about leaving."

Scorpius held Albus' hand, suddenly wishing they were alone instead of with his father.

"Six months goes by quickly," Draco said. He smiled at Dania, who unconsciously placed her hand across her stomach.

"Six months is nothing," Scorpius agreed, giving Albus an encouraging smile. "Nothing at all!"

* * *

Scorpius had stolen a baby.

Well, not exactly stolen, but he had removed her from the room when no one was looking. It was just that she was so cute and it was so loud, so he took her into the small den at The Burrow while everyone else talked where he could sit close to the fireplace with her. It was cold this Christmas Eve, and Scorpius was very stressed after a day of helping Albus pack for his excursion to Brazil.

Something about holding a baby, though, put it all in perspective.

"He's going to be fine in Brazil," Scorpius said, sitting cross-legged with Harriet in his arms. "He has to be. Your Uncle Albus – well, I guess he's not really your uncle, is he? That's probably what you'll call him, though – he's going away to learn more about saving animals. It's what he's always wanted to do, but I'm going to miss him very much. When he comes home, you're going to be even bigger than you are now. Maybe you'll even be talking!"

She was so much bigger than the last time he saw her, and he watched, fascinated, as she looked at him with her small blue eyes and let the small amount of hair on her head turn white-blonde. It had terrified him the first time he saw it, and later found out that Teddy and Victoire had kept Harriet's metamorphmagus talents a secret to enjoy watching their family panic.

 _"We're not getting any sleep with a baby,"_ Teddy had said. _"We have to have_ some _fun."_

"It's a good look on you," Scorpius said, gently patting the tuft of hair. He heard a group of people laugh from the other room and smiled. He could pick out Draco's laugh anywhere.

"I'm going to have a baby brother soon," Scorpius told Harriet. His voice broke at the mere thought. "Dania told me last night. Isn't that exciting?"

Harriet gurgled at him in response.

"I didn't know it was a boy."

Scorpius jumped at the voice behind him, jostling Harriet and earning a whine of disapproval from her.

"Merlin, Rose!" Scorpius cried, clutching Harriet close. "Don't do that!"

Rose was sitting in an armchair in the corner, nearly entirely in shadow. Scorpius nudged his glasses up and she came into better focus. There was a glass of firewhiskey in her hand, and he spotted the bottle nearby. She remained silent.

 _That's not good_.

"Rose?"

"I just needed to get away from everyone for a bit," she explained, her voice slow and soft – not at all her usual clipped-and-concise speech. "But a baby brother – that's excellent, Scorpius. Really."

Scorpius swallowed down his excitement at not being the last person with his name. Clearly, this wasn't time for a happy rant.

"What's wrong?"

Rose bit her lip, looking down into her glass. Her big red curls were hidden under a Santa hat that looked entirely too happy for her expression.

"I was seeing someone," she said. "And I really liked him. Loved him, maybe. But things had been bad for a while and he broke up with me a few days ago."

"Why?" Scorpius asked.

Rose didn't answer for a moment, and Scorpius didn't press her. He rocked Harriet slowly in his arms while she grabbed at the collar of his shirt.

"Because he's a muggle. And not the kind that would take well to our world," Rose said.

Suddenly, bits and pieces of the last year made more sense – Lily had kept trying to get Rose to talk about her mystery boyfriend. Albus had said she'd seem depressed for a while and she'd seemed to be having a bit too much fun with Viktor Krum's son at Victoire and Teddy's wedding.

"I knew you were too interested in dancing with strangers at the wedding," Scorpius said. "It's not your style."

"I'm not sure what my style is anymore," Rose said. "I thought I did. I guess I liked the thrill of it. Sort of having a double life. And I did intend to tell him – truly. But I realized he'd never…"

Rose trailed off and took another long drink from her glass.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said. "Relationships are hard."

"Well, not all of us have had the luxury of being married since we were eleven," Rose said, a bit bitter. Scorpius opened his mouth to protest, but realized he had no defense. It wasn't like he'd had a long line of relationships and heartbreak.

Scorpius noticed Albus standing in the doorway with his thumbs hooked on the pockets of his trousers. He leaned into the frame to take his weight from his bad leg, watching Rose. It gave Scorpius a moment to look at him – black slacks and a dark blue button-down had been an excellent choice.

 _I need to remind him how lucky we've been_ , Scorpius thought.

"We haven't been married since we were eleven," Albus corrected her. Rose looked up at him, and when she turned her head the light caught the dampness under her eyes. "We started dating at eleven. I think we got married at fifteen?"

Albus looked at Scorpius, amused.

"Sixteen," Scorpius corrected. "In the Room of Requirement."

Albus winked at him before turning his attention back to Rose, who seemed to have ignored their exchange. Scorpius quickly gave Albus a summary of his cousin's situation.

"You know what did it?" Rose asked. "And I haven't even told anyone because now it feels a bit tainted, but… I tried out for the Hollyhead Harpies and made it."

"That's fantastic!" Albus cried.

Rose just shook her head sadly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"And I didn't have time for him during tryouts and I had to keep lying."

"Well, you're a wonderful liar," Albus said. Rose glared at him. "I mean that as a compliment. Remember, I'm a Slytherin."

"Well, it just got to be too much and he decided I was too secretive. He'd never met my family, save for mum, dad, Hugo and my Granger grandparents. And it just fell apart."

With that, Rose started sobbing, leaning forward onto her knees and curling into herself. Scorpius and Albus instantly moved towards her, and Albus at on the arm of her chair, pulling her close.

"If he wasn't the kind pf person you could tell everything to, then he wasn't for you," Albus said, rubbing her back as she cried into his thigh. Scorpius shifted Harriet to one arm and knelt in front of Rose taking her drink before it tipped from her hand.

"He was just so sweet," Rose said. "And kind. He worked with disabled children, for Merlin's sake! I'd never have the patience for that!"

"Oh, Rosie," Albus said, empathetic. She sobbed into him, her shoulders shaking, and to Scorpius' surprise, she reached for him. He took her hand and let her grip it while she cried.

"It'll be okay," Scorpius said. "He just wasn't the right guy for you."

"I know," Rose said, drawing herself back up. Albus smoothed her hair down and pulled his wand from his pocket, conjuring a handkerchief and handing it to her. She took it gratefully and cleaned up her face, leaving a smear of mascara on the fabric.

"I know he wasn't right, and I'd known for a long time," Rose said, finally calming. "But that doesn't make me feel any better right now."

"I find holding a baby helps," Scorpius said. "Or a puppy. But Zar doesn’t much like being cuddled right now."

Rose protested a bit as Scorpius shifted, but took Harriet from his arms.

"Is that why you took her?" Rose asked. "It makes you feel better?"

"Yes," Scorpius admitted. "I'm practicing for when my brother arrives."

Albus smiled down at him fondly and Scorpius reached out for his hand. They only had a week until he left, and Scorpius made it a point to maintain contact whenever possible.

Rose looked down at Harriet, whose hair color quickly shifted to bright red – and gave her a watery smile.

"I guess it does help," Rose said. She looked up between Albus and Scorpius. "Thank you."

After several minutes of cuddling Harriet and telling her about her family, they came back to the very busy living room full of people. Rose was quickly captured by Hermione, who saw her daughter's red eyes. Dominique and Hugo vacated a spot on the sofa near the Christmas tree, and Albus quickly claimed it, patting Lily's shoulder as he sat beside her.

"It's only six months," Scorpius said, recognizing Albus' faraway look as he sank into the space beside him. Albus sagged into his side, and Scorpius wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

Albus didn't say anything. All possible reassurances had already been spoken and there was little left to say, save for the goodbye looming a week away. Scorpius didn't want to admit it to Albus, but he was worried – worried about being without his boyfriend for so long, and a bit concerned that Albus would enjoy being away from him enough that it would change things. Maybe even ruin them.

Across the room, Draco and Dania were talking with Ainsley and James, who had just returned from another brief trip – this time to Scotland. They were laughing and Draco smiled over at his son – _eldest_ son, Scorpius reminded himself – waving them over. Scorpius smiled and waved him off before setting about smoothing Albus' hair back down.

"Your brother's been around more," Scorpius said. "Dad says he's still not comfortable around him, and I'm still pretty sure he doesn't like me."

"He's going to have to get over it," Albus said despondently. "Why on earth did you make me start packing so early?"

"You're using muggle transportation," Scorpius said. "I might need to charm your suitcase to make it big enough."

"Can I put you in it?"

"Sadly, no," Scorpius sighed. "But it's okay. You can write to me. Our letters will only be delayed by a day or so."

Albus hummed in disapproval.

"It'll be worth it in the end," Scorpius reminded him.

"You know," Albus began, "I am almost done packing for the trip a whole week in advance."

"So?"

"I'm going to have plenty of free time."

Albus looked up at him, mischievous and needy all at once with a smirk Scorpius knew was meant to be suggestive.

"You're incorrigible."

"You've never complained before."

Beside them, Lily rolled her eyes.

"You two are gross," she said. "Cute, but gross."

* * *

"Do you have your toothbrush?"

"Yes."

"Your copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_?"

"Yes."

"The annotated one, not –"

" _Yes_."

"Do you have your wand?"

"Oh, for Dumbledore's sake, Scorpius," Albus said, dropping his duffle bag on the floor next to his suitcase and straightening his jumper and tucking his old scorpion amulet into it. The jumper was an old one from his Quidditch uniform, and Scorpius would have sworn Albus was testing his resolve on purpose. He had a well-established weakness for Albus in his Quidditch gear that dated back to their fifth year. "I have everything. You checked. Five times."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go to the airport with you?" Scorpius asked, wringing his hands. Albus drew his wand from the pocket of his coat and shrunk down his cane to fit in his duffle bag. It was early morning on the second day of the new year, and portkey that would take Albus and his luggage to the airport waited at the edge of their garden. Scorpius was trying not to look at the old, cracked terra cotta pot through the open door.

"And how would you get back?" Albus asked, both amused and exasperated.

"I could get to a Floo connection. I'm very good with taxis, remember?" Scorpius asked.

Albus smiled warmly at him, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes.

"If you go to the airport with me, I might not leave."

Scorpius folded his arms across his middle, looking down and wondering if that would be such a bad thing. Albus had told his mother the same thing when she'd offered. Scorpius had envied her then – when Albus stepped into the fireplace and left, she still had both Lily and Harry.

He, on the other hand, would be quite alone other than Zar, who was quietly pawing at Albus' things on the floor. At a little over a year old, Zar was both endlessly curious and large enough to do damage. Albus whistled for him to stop, and Zar whimpered, scolded, and lay down next to his bag.

Albus looked at Scorpius for a long moment before stepping forward and hugging him. Scorpius' arms fell limply to his sides. He knew that as soon as he hugged Albus back, the act of saying goodbye would begin, and he just wasn't ready.

"I've known for months that this was coming," Albus said, "but that doesn't mean I'm ready."

Scorpius groaned and bowed his head into Albus' shoulder, clinging to him in the least desperate manner he could manage.

"Be careful," Scorpius said, muffled. "Please."

"It's a training program," Albus muttered. "I doubt I'll be able to get into much trouble."

"Still, I'd appreciate it if you'd come back with all your limbs."

"I don't know," Albus said darkly. "Pretty sure the left leg can go."

Scorpius pulled back just enough to scowl at him, his hands still locked behind Albus' back.

"Send a letter as soon as you get there. Just so I know you made it."

"I will," Albus promised. "Don't worry. Muggle transportation isn't nearly as bad as your dad says."

Scorpius shook his head a bit, forcing a smile.

"I'm glad you're doing this, even if I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too," Albus rasped. "Thank you for understanding."

Scorpius stayed still, looking down into Albus' eyes. Despite having a full night's sleep, there were still small threads of red coming from his irises.

"I'll see you soon," Albus said, forcing a smile before tilting his head up and kissing Scorpius cautiously. Scorpius contained himself, forcing his hands to stay still instead of clinging to his boyfriend and begging him to stay. He felt restrained and this wasn't the goodbye that Albus deserved, but he also didn't deserve the guilt of seeing Scorpius look as devastated as he felt.

Albus pulled away too soon and it felt like the worst part of climbing from bed on a cold day. He stepped back slowly from Scorpius' arms and threw his bag over his shoulder, careful of his balance – and grabbed the handle of his suitcase before heading toward the door.

Albus didn't look back until he'd reached the bottom of the steps, his shoulders slumped and his hair now ruffled by the wind. Scorpius smiled for him, reaching down to restrain Zar by the collar when as he tried to follow his human.

"I love you," Scorpius said. It was a simple enough reminder, but he often felt he didn't say it enough.

The worry lines on Albus' face softened. He reached up and straightened Scorpius' glasses carefully.

"I love you too," Albus confirmed, pulling Scorpius down by the collar of his jumper for one last brief kiss. "I'll see you in June."

Scorpius could only nod and watch as Albus took the few steps to the portkey. He looked back one last time, his lips curved into a sad smile, as he reached out and grabbed the rim of the pot and disappeared into thin air.

Scorpius sat down on the cold stone step next to Zar, who was quick to lay himself across his lap and lick at his face. He tolerated it for a moment until Zar calmed and sat beside him, looking at the place Albus had vanished. After several minutes, the cold breeze started to bite through Scorpius' jumper, and he wrapped an arm around Zar's back.

"He's my favorite human too," Scorpius said quietly.

* * *

That night, the house was quiet. It was always quiet – it wasn't like Albus was loud or constantly played music – but without the breathing of another person beside him, Scorpius felt very alone. He left the everlasting candle beside the bed burning, but still the darkness and silence felt oppressive and daunting.

He sighed and whistled. Zar, who had spent twenty minutes lobbying to get on the bed with a mixture of whining and wide-eyed looks with a lolling tongue before giving up, leapt onto the bed.

"That was fast," Scorpius said. Zar lay in the space Albus normally occupied, stretched along Scorpius' side. "Were you waiting?"

Zar only whined at him, sniffing intently at Albus' pillow before giving a mighty huff and laying his head on his paws. Scorpius wrapped an arm around him and scratched behind his ears lazily.

"I know," he assured the dog. "I miss him too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very, very long chapter. There won't be as long a wait for the next one.
> 
> [Shout at me. ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	9. Letters

_January 5_

_Scorpius,_

_Muggle transportation is infuriating. Please, let's never use it. Ever._

_I'm in Brazil. We stayed inside Castelobruxo the first night. It's very, very different from Hogwarts. They're both castles, sure, but Hogwarts isn't this… shiny. I didn't even make it to the Castelobruxo Preserve before I started meeting new creatures. This place is swarming with Caipora and it's like having Peeves everywhere all the time._

_I was only there a day, but can you imagine?_

_We made it out to the preserve this morning and I'm really not sure how to explain this place. It's massive, for starters. There's a very small village and there's about ten magizoologists who live here full time. The rest is in rotation, and they have us in these cabins. I'm sharing with a couple of really nice Canadians._

_Like I said, I'm the youngest person here by about five years, and I'm also Harry Potter's son and look like him, so guess who's everyone's favorite? It's a damn nice change._

_Anyway, we're just settling in now, but it seems like this might be good. Everyone here has a different specialty, so I'm excited to get to work and learn from more experienced magizoologists. Because everyone here is more experienced than me._

_Literally everyone._

_I hope your first week back after the holidays is going well._

_Love,_

_Al_

* * *

_January 8_

_Albus,_

_I am so relieved to hear that you made it safely. I know you told me not to worry, but I kept picking up the muggle newspapers to see if there had been any accidents._

_The preserve sounds fascinating! I'm glad you like the people that you're staying with. I'm sure that's a huge relief. Please take pictures of the creatures you get to work with so you can tell me about them when you get home._

_The first week back was very slow. I've been assigned to the team revising Hogwarts textbooks and am happy to report that I'm working on A History of Magic. It's a dream come true. Of course, I won't have as much freedom (or credit) as I did with Jin's book, but it's better than sorting through old, dusty parchment and coming home smelling like books._

_And be wary of the Caipora if you wind up back at Castelobruxo. Also, find out how to say Castelobruxo properly so you can tell me when you get home._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_January 15_

_Scorpius,_

_Let me begin by saying that I miss you very, very much._

_That being established, I'm actually having a great time. I got to work with adult dragons today for the first time. This place gets some of the most critical cases from around the world, but I wasn't expecting one from New Zealand. I'd never even seen an Antipodean Opaleye until today but they're gorgeous. This one had been injured by hunters who wanted its scales and it was sedated when it arrived. I got to help bandage its claw before it woke up. It's currently healing in an enclosure in the forest but we're not sure he'll be able to fly again, so he might be a permanent fixture here._

_I wish you could have seen it. It's very pale and reminded me of you._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

Albus sat at the small desk crammed into his corner of the room. It was a mess of parchment and quills and salvaged items like dropped dragon scales and unicorn hair, but Albus was making it work, scratching out a letter to his parents and Lily. Sealed envelopes addressed to Scorpius, Rose and Maggie were already prepared for the post.

Stephen and Martha Finley came back from dinner late, laughing and slightly inebriated. Albus had only known them a week, but he was already jealous – how lovely it must be to have your partner with you on an excursion such as this. Maybe he could talk Scorpius into a career in creature-related history…

"Albus!" Stephen said. Albus smiled at her, leaning back in his chair. "You left dinner early."

"I wanted to finish a letter to my mum," Albus said. "She worries."

Stephen took Martha's coat and hung it on the hook by the door. They each sat on their respective, separate beds and started removing their field gear. The Finleys had been assigned to pen duty, and had spend most of the day in the hills tending to the creatures that were permanent residents.

" _We've been married for twenty years,"_ Stephen had told Albus when he'd insisted they didn't have to use the separate beds provided. " _And this is exhausting. Sometimes you really just need to sleep."_

Albus hadn't understood. He was still having trouble sleeping alone.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Martha asked, pointing to the framed photo on Albus' desk. Albus watched as Scorpius kissed his cheek in the Slytherin dormitory and the two laughed at the camera, their ties half undone after graduation.

"Yeah," He handed her the photo, and Martha appraised it, showing Stephen over her shoulder.

"He's very handsome," Martha said. Albus stifled a proud grin. "How long have you been together?"

"That's a complicated answer," Albus said. "Since we were fifteen? So a bit more than four years. But we met the first day at Hogwarts when we were eleven."

"It must be difficult being so far away," Martha said, sympathetic.

Albus nodded slowly. "It is. For a lot of reasons. But I'll be back before I know it."

"Believe me," Stephen said. "When you've been married twenty years you won't even remember this."

Martha smiled fondly at him.

"Twenty years is a long time," Albus said, taking back the photo. He looked down at it again as Scorpius kissed his cheek once more and felt a sharp pang of longing. He'd thought the first few days would be the hardest, but he'd been so busy with getting here and adjusting that he'd barely had time to think. Now, the reality of the coming months was starting to set in.

"Can I see the paper?" Albus asked as Stephen tossed some things off of his bed. Stephen passed it to him and Albus rifled through it, looking for the sports section.

"It's an American paper," Martha reminded him.

"I just need to see the Quidditch scores," Albus told her. "My cousin just started playing for my mum's old team and – yes! They won their first match."

"Who's your cousin?"

"Rose Granger-Weasley."

Stephen and Martha exchanged looks for a moment before Stephen cleared his throat.

"That's one hell of a family you've got, kid."

Albus grinned.

* * *

_January 21_

_Albus,_

_I know what the papers might be saying, but Rose is fine. I was at the match. She just dislocated her shoulder and will be out for the next week, but then she will be back on the pitch, right as rain._

_I saw the photo in the Prophet and I don't know if that's the one you might have seen. It looks far worse than it is._

_Everything else is fine here._

_Lily cut off her hair._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_January 30_

_Scorpius,_

_Is she okay? The last time Lily cut off all her hair she was protesting being grounded for stealing dad's broom._

_I did see the photo a few hours before your letter came and it did look pretty awful. I'm sorry you were there. That must have given you flashbacks._

_In other news, I was bitten by a Grindylow earlier so they've had me sit today out. We got some salve on it quickly so it shouldn't scar too bad, but hey! My scar collection is growing!_

_Love,_

_Al_

* * *

_February 3,_

_Could you please be careful and stop getting bitten? One day it’s going to be fatal._

_I think Lily's decided to 'reinvent' herself. Again._

_The copy of History of Magic that I helped edit will be used at Hogwarts next year._

_Ainsley accepted a position at the Ministry in the child welfare department. She is going to help the Ministry identify magical children in poor living conditions (living with muggles, families that suppress their magic, abusive parents, et cetra.) and bring them in where they can be cared for. We are all very proud of her._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_February 5_

_Scorp,_

_Too late – was bitten on the shoulder by a pixie yesterday. That's certainly going to scar._

_Please tell Ainsley congratulations and that I can't imagine anyone better suited for that job._

_I worked with Mooncalves all day today and they're amazing. They're some of the gentlest creatures and I think I want one. Can I have one? It can live in the back yard._

_How is Dania?_

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_February 9_

_Albus,_

_I'm about a month away from having a little brother – maybe a bit longer! Our birthdays will be close. I'm very excited, and Dania seems to be in good spirits, though she is not very keen on walking long distances. She seems very happy right now. I had dinner with them last night._

_Dad is mental. He is driving me, Dania and Ainsley insane. Ainsley has decided to live at the manor for the time being and dad keeps quizzing her on what to do in case of a baby-related emergency if she is around and no one else is. Dania keeps telling him to stop, but he did it during dinner while Dania was out seeing her father._

_I honestly cannot wait. I always wanted a brother or sister. Of course, I pictured it differently as a child, especially since now I am old enough to be this child's uncle. Or father._

_That's terrifying._

_I wish you were going to be here to meet him with me._

_No, you cannot have a Mooncalf._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_February 14_

_Scorp,_

_I wish I were going to be there too. I'm exited to meet him when I get back._

_Things have been pretty calm here over the last few days, so I don't have anything new to report, other than tending to my first centaur. He was actually quite kind and grateful that I helped set his leg._

_I know this is going to get to you late, and I know we never really cared much for Valentine's Day, but Happy Valentine's Day anyway. I'm sorry I'm not there to eat cheap takeout and watch one of those awful, sappy films with you._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_February 14_

_Albus,_

_I know this will get to you a bit late, but I figure you're stuck out there in the middle of nowhere and you likely don't have access to decent sweets._

_There is enough chocolate and pepper imps in this box for you to share and have plenty for yourself._

_Happy Valentine's Day, love._

_-Scorpius_

* * *

_February 20_

_Scorpius,_

_Today, I got to witness the birth of a unicorn. You would think it would be as beautiful as the creature its self._

_It's not. I don't recommend it._

_Also –_

_Don't be mad. Please don't be mad._

_I got a tattoo._

_It was someone's birthday and we were all drinking and it seemed like an excellent idea at the time._

_I'm not telling you what it is until I know you're not mad._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_February 24_

_Albus,_

_Why would I be mad? You can do what you want with your body._

_I am concerned since you avoided telling me what it is. Do you already regret it?_

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_February 26_

_Scorp,_

_I know your handwriting and I'm sensing judgment in it. I'm not telling. But no, I'm quite fond of it._

_Please find the enclosed photo of me with the baby unicorn. The cuteness of the product is not enough to remove the scars of the actual event._

_Someday I want to come here with you so you can see the rainforest. I don't think you've ever been anywhere like this before._

_I miss you so much._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_February 28_

_Albus,_

_My handwriting is not judgmental, but I'm sure I will see it soon enough when you come home._

_I have good news! The Magical Archives is doing a series of lectures over the course of the next year, and they are having some of the junior fellows participate. I have been offered the opportunity to give my first lecture on magical artefacts._

_Things are finally going right, Albus._

_I wish you were here. Dad, Dania and Ainsley took me out to celebrate and she dragged James along. He was very quiet._

_I still want to know what the tattoo is._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_March 2_

_Scorpius,_

_I'm so proud of you. Really. I know it doesn't come across on a piece of parchment, but I spent the entire day telling everyone about it. I'm so proud of you. I wish I could be there with you._

_The most exciting thing I've done recently is watch a family of bowtruckles die. It's the first time I've lost a creature here and this time I lost four at once._

_All my love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_March 2_

_Albus,_

_I am truly sorry to tell you this in a letter, but there is another man in my life and I am absolutely in love._

_Orion was born last night. He's perfect in every way with ten little fingers and ten little toes and a head full of blonde hair, though it is a bit darker than mine and dad's, at least for now._

_Albus, I had no idea I could love a human being that cannot talk like this. He hasn't  done anything. He hasn't had time to do anything, but he is wonderful. Zar and I have been staying at the manor, and even Zar has calmed down in light of the baby._

_I always thought of having a sibling, but to have one free of any possibility of the Greengrass curse? I would give anything to have my mother back, but there is something to be said for knowing he will never have that dark cloud looming over him. The Malfoy name is enough._

_I'm going to work from home for the next few days to help Dad and Dania out and to spend more time with him. I'm not sure I could concentrate at work if I didn't._

_I cannot wait for you to meet him._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_March 4_

_Scorp,_

_Before you panic about what you'll see in the papers, I'm fine. The fatality wasn't me._

_I'll write soon._

_-Al_

* * *

_March 5_

_Albus,_

_I saw the Prophet hours before I got your letter and it scared the hell out of me._

_What happened? Are you okay? Please write back soon._

_Or better yet, please come home._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

Albus stared out over the wreckage. Half the Castelobruxo Preserve's village was scorched. Claw marks marred the field that stretched out before him, and in the distance, Albus could see Stephen Finley and several others digging graves for the slaughtered Mooncalves. Those that survived stood shaken in a makeshift pen near the cabins that remained.

Behind him lay the cold body of the Antipodean Opaleye he'd handled in his first days in Brazil. The potions master from Castelobruxo was currently salvaging what he could from the deceased dragon, having taken what he could from the other creatures lost in the rampage. There wasn't much left of the beast. Once they had realized there was no containing him, Albus and the others had taken swift and decisive action. He was sure Harry would be proud of him, if only he could remember what he'd done and what spells he'd used.

It all happened so fast.

The smell of fresh earth and ash hung in the air, and Albus had to shake off the old memories it brought to mind. It had already been two days and he still felt disoriented, like he was floating through the day without connecting to anyone.

He fed the infant Alicanto in his arms carefully, pulling gold scraps from a nearby bucket with a gloved hand. The Alicanto attacked his meal eagerly, and nipped at Albus' hand when he didn't offer a fresh supply immediately. The sharp pain snapped him from his daze.

"Watch it," Albus warned kindly before offering the bird more food.

The letter in his pocket felt heavier than a piece of parchment and Albus had to admit that Scorpius' words were a distraction. He'd been listening to Scorpius' voice for so long that he had no problem imagining his plea:

_Please come home._

Albus considered it. After seeing what the dragon had done to Carlos Aguiar, one of the permanent staff at the Castelobruxo Preserve, and helping prepare his scorched remains for transport back to his family in central Brazil, there wasn't much more he wanted to do than go home and see his family.

* * *

_March 6_

_Albus,_

_I'm sorry I asked you to come home. That isn't fair. I'm sure there are a million things to do there and that you're needed._

_Please stay safe._

_Love,_

_Scorpius._

* * *

_March 7_

_Albus,_

_If you want to come home, we can make the arrangements within a day. I just want you to know that._

_\- Harry_

* * *

_March 9_

_Scorpius,_

_I promise you that I'm fine. There's a photo enclosed taken this morning (with an occamy) for proof. Please show it to my parents – I only have one copy._

_How is Zar?_

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_March 10_

_Albus,_

_Zar is fine, but don't change the subject._

_If you're fine then why the bloody hell is your leg bandaged in that photo? Why?_

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_March 11_

_Scorpius,_

_I walked through a thorn bush chasing a stray Niffler. A lot of the creatures' cages were smashed while the Opaleye had its way with the village and we had to chase them down._

_I just had a lot of scratches. They're completely healed now._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

_March 12_

_Albus,_

_Jin came to visit and we went to an early-birthday Quidditch match. Rose absolutely dominated the pitch. She's really something out there. The first thing we should do when you get back is go to a game, especially since we get the best seats._

_I'm sorry I haven't sent a photo before, but here's a picture of me and Orion. Please ignore how tired I look. I had a long night of editing before._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

They left Dania and Orion asleep near the fireplace after dinner. Scorpius wasn't sure why, but he followed Draco up the main staircase, past the bedrooms and long-unused guest rooms to the attic entrance.

"There's something you need to see," Draco said quietly, and Scorpius followed, trusting and willing.

Draco drew his wand and with a quick spell, the latter unfolded from its place on the ceiling, and the door above them creaked open.

"I've never been up there," Scorpius said.

"For very good reason."

Draco stared at the door for a long moment before climbing the stairs and stepping into the dusty room. The manor's highest window let in a triangle of moonlight, but it wasn’t enough. Scorpius held out his hand and conjured a ball of light into his palm before willing it to float off his fingertips up towards the ceiling, casting a warm glow and long shadows around the room as it spun and shifted near the rafters.

Draco stared at him and Scorpius shrugged, tugging his sweater vest back into place.

"I've learned some new tricks."

Draco looked at the light and back to his son. "I suppose I've gotten so used to seeing wizards do magic the traditional way that seeing this still…"

"Creeps you out?"

Draco gave a noncommittal shrug.

"It creeps Albus out too. Sometimes I still wonder what I am."

Draco said nothing and Scorpius looked around. Along the edges of the massive room were glass cases with various artefacts and rows of shelves with black books so dusty they appeared grey. A pristine but antique desk sat tucked in the corner, seeming to greedily absorb the light that came its way. Other old furniture sat scattered around the room, draped in heavy cloth.

"What's all this?"

"This," Draco began, "is the legacy your grandfather left us."

Draco pulled a sheet from an old couch. On it sat a taxidermied Demiguise with eyes so lifelike that Scorpius shuddered.

"That's creepy."

"This? This sat in the sitting room when I was a child."

Scorpius cringed.

"I called it Marius, I believe."

"How on earth did you get 'Marius'?"

"I have no idea," Draco said. He smiled sadly at his son. "I was a pretentious child. I probably thought it sounded intelligent."

"You're a pretentious adult too," Scorpius muttered with intent for Draco to hear. He earned a good-natured scowl.

Draco moved to another piece and drew back the curtain, revealing a withered hand in a glass case.

"Is that the Hand of Glory? I thought it was lost."

"No, I've had it for years. I paid Borgin not to keep the purchase record and never told anyone. I like to keep a little mystery."

Along the winding path through various chairs and tables, Scorpius saw a stack of paintings leaning against the back of a sofa draped in a heavy black cloth. He moved towards it, stumbling and smashing his hip against the sharp corner of a table. The table rocked and from it slid the shell of a broken time-turner. Scorpius caught it by the rusted chain and looked up at Draco, offended that such a dangerous thing could be kept in the manor.

"That one has been broken since before I was born," Draco explained. "It can't do any harm."

Scorpius straightened and groaned.

"Oh, that smarts."

He was still clutching his side as he slid the time-turner into a drawer and out of sight.

"Who's that?" Scorpius asked, pointing to the portraits.

"Ah. Those are some of the Malfoys – your grandparents and some much, much older. Lucius and Abraxas and Brutus… I had them brought back from my father's old holiday house last year. They've been silenced for a long time and are…" Draco paused for a moment, thinking. "They're best left alone."

Scorpius nodded, wondering what the portraits of his ancestors would say to him if they had the chance.

He was probably better off not knowing.

"Dad, why are we up here?" he asked finally as Draco picked up an ornate antique necklace from a dust-covered jewelry box. He siphoned off years of grime with his wand.

"The Malfoys have been accumulating artefacts and valuables up here for centuries," Draco said. "I don't even know everything that's up here. I don't want to."

Scorpius paused, waiting, rubbing his bruised hip absently.

"Our family has done some awful things, Scorpius," Draco reminded him. Scorpius had spent the entire summer following his first year at Hogwarts reading his family history and was well aware of the dark past attached to his name. "It's a burden you and Orion shouldn't have to bear."

"Or you."

"That's debatable," Draco said. Scorpius had engaged this debate before. He was tired and knew better than to argue.

Draco tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and looked at his son thoughtfully. Scorpius remembered a time when he would have shrunk under that gaze with a rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms, but now he just met his father's eyes, waiting.

"When I'm gone, I don't want you to keep the Manor."

" _What_?"

"Sell it. Tear it down and build a new home on the land. Hell, you could build an entire town on this estate if you wanted. There's certainly enough space."

Scorpius' heart skipped a beat.

"Why are we talking about this now. Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Draco said quickly. "I've just been thinking quite a bit and in light of my marriage and Orion's birth, I had to rewrite my will. Standard procedure, I assure you. This was your childhood home, but you're an adult now –"

"Doesn't feel like it," Scorpius interjected.

"Orion will grow up here, and you should be the last children in our family to live here," Draco said slowly. "I know that you are better than anyone else in our family's past and I know that between Dania and an older brother like you, Orion will be too, but there's too much darkness here, and I want to know that, should anything happen to me, you'll let this part of our family's history go."

Draco met his eyes in a way he normally avoided when discussing his family's past. Scorpius never knew when the turning point was for Draco – if it was before or after marrying his mother, or if it was after he was born – but Draco always carried a great deal of shame for his ancestor's actions. It was a shame Scorpius didn't think he should bear, since Draco hadn't been responsible for the actions of Septimus and Brutus and Abraxas, and he certainly hadn't been responsible for Lucius…

But the Manor was just brick and mortar. If it would put his father's mind at ease, then he would do anything.

"I promise that in my lifetime I'll see the Malfoys divested from this place."

Draco's shoulders sagged a bit, and Scorpius knew he'd lifted a great weight from them.

"And destroy everything in this attic," Draco added. Scorpius nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Every bit of it," Scorpius agreed.

Draco smiled warmly at him and walked toward him, wrapping an arm around Scorpius' shoulders to usher him back toward the door.

"Thank you," Draco said. "That makes me feel a great deal better."

A loud cry echoed throughout the manor as they descended. Scorpius paused on the bottom step and looked back up at Draco who sighed in exhaustion. Though Orion was only days old, he had quite a pair of lungs.

"Can I take care of him? You and Dania can go to bed – I'll stay up."

"Be my guest," Draco said. "He's kept me up for two days straight."

Scorpius grinned as though he'd been given a gift and ran down the hallway toward the staircase. Behind him, Draco shook his head.

"An adult indeed," Draco muttered with fondness.

* * *

_March 14_

_Scorpius,_

_I'm sorry I'm missing your birthday this week (I'm sure you thought I forgot). It's not what I'd like to get you, but please find the attached placeholder gift. I went into a nearby muggle village and there's this family that hand-binds books and notebooks and I had them make this Slytherin one for you. I hope you'll use this diary for all your nerdy writing and note-taking._

_I hope you have a wonderful day with your family (actually take the day off – none of that stealthy "pretending to read when you're actually working" stuff). Just know that I’m thinking of you._

_Love you,_

_Albus_

* * *

_March 15_

_Albus,_

_The notebook is lovely. I’m already using it to take notes and outline that lecture. Fortunately, it isn't until May and I have some time._

_We're just going to have dinner at the manor. I think your parents might come by too. They haven't met Orion yet._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_March 18_

_Albus,_

_I haven't heard from you for a few days. Is everything okay?_

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress has been slow here and I apologize. It's been a rough road IRL and I didn't want that to impact the story, so I've had to take my time.
> 
> Send some extra positive energy on [Tumblr](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/).


	10. Gifts

_Scorpius,_

_It's your twentieth birthday, love! I do hope that you have a lovely day planned for yourself – that you and your father and those you love will celebrate this milestone in whatever way you see fit. It's springtime – as I've watched you grow I've always thought it fitting that you were a spring child – so take some time to smell the flowers for me today._

_It was easy for me to picture you at your graduation, but I must confess that it is difficult for me as I write this to picture you as little as two years after. Where will you be? Will you still be living at home with your father? Will you be living halfway across the globe? What will you be doing?_

_I do know that as you enter the third decade of your life that you will be doing amazing things and it is my hope that you're surrounded by people as beautiful as you are. As I write this, I can hear you down the hall talking with your father about a book you've just finished (I do not know which one – I cannot possibly keep up with your voracious reading habits), and I hope that you have carried that same enthusiasm with you into adulthood._

_I love you, my beautiful boy. Happy Birthday._

_Love,_

_Astoria_

* * *

Scorpius sighed as he looked down at the letter. Draco had given it to him before he left after visiting his son for lunch. They'd eaten at the Leaky Cauldron and visited Scorpius' favorite bakery to pick out his birthday cake for the evening. Draco had slipped him the letter on his way out the door, unable to stay and watch Scorpius read it.

"It's between you and your mother," he'd said kindly. "It's not my place to know what's in it."

Now, Scorpius sat at his desk, now on the third floor of the archive. His office was small and cramped, but it was _his_ , and he was one of the few junior historians afforded his own space.

He was very grateful for that privacy as he sniffed and dried his eyes, looking at his mother's signature. Astoria had always had immaculate handwriting – beautiful with smooth curls and lines. Her hand had clearly been shaking as she wrote this, and Scorpius knew the day it had been written. He remembered talking to his father as they walked down the hallway to his mother's study where the found her at her desk wrapped in a crimson robe and smiling.

 _It was 'Enchanted Encounters,'_ Scorpius thought. _I was telling him about 'Enchanted Encounters,' and then you asked me to read you one of the stories_.

He folded the letter carefully and slid it back into its envelope, remembering how Astoria had fallen asleep with her hand in his and her head resting against the window of her study while he read.

* * *

Draco came back in the evening, intent on spending as much time as he could with his son on his birthday. Dania had to check in on some patients, so he was eager to return home where Ainsley was looking after Orion.

"Are you ready to go?" Draco asked impatiently from the doorway of Scorpius' office. _A glorified closet,_ he thought but held his tongue. Scorpius had been so excited about his promotion, and Draco didn't want to ruin it by pointing out that his Hogwarts wardrobe had nearly been larger. He wondered if a sizable donation would get his son a larger office…

Scorpius looked up from the book he was scribbling in, frantically trying to finish whatever he was working on.

"Just give me one minute," Scorpius muttered, engrossed in his work.

 _At the very least he's enjoying himself more_ , Draco thought. He lazily walked his fingers across the stacks of books and papers on his son's desk.

"What are these for?" Draco inquired, looking at a few volumes on ancient artefacts from Egyptian wizards.

"It's for that lecture series," Scorpius said with barely a glance up. "I told you about it."

"You did," Draco agreed. He pointed to a stack of parchment and folios teetering on the edge of Scorpius' desk.

"And those?" Draco asked. "They're going to fall."

Scorpius scooped the pile up.

"Just a personal project," Scorpius said, tucking them into a corner on his bookshelf. "Something I'm exploring for later. Are you ready to go?"

Scorpius rose to his feet before exchanging his robes for a jacket – _Albus'_ jacket, Draco realized. He stopped himself from commenting on how terrible it looked with his jumper vest because that meant acknowledging that his son wore jumper vests at all.

Despite his questionable attire, Draco smiled at his son with pride. Scorpius' birthdays always got to him. His son was strong, intelligent and handsome – everything Draco had wanted to be at his age. Everything he'd never been given the chance to be or enjoy.

"Of course," Draco said. "To the Floo connection?"

"Sure," Scorpius agreed. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Draco frowned at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You're distracting me," Scorpius said. "You don't want me to be sad because Albus isn't here."

Draco's face shifted in contrition as Scorpius checked his stack of mail one more time – likely for a letter from his boyfriend. Albus wrote nearly every day after the dragon incident, and Scorpius had been increasingly anxious (and nearly insufferable) in his silence.

"Somewhat guilty," he confessed. Scorpius gave him Astoria's warm smile. Draco forgave him instantly.

"I appreciate it," Scorpius said. Draco ushered him from his office, tugging the door closed behind them.

* * *

The Malfoys rarely used the smaller formal dining room of the manor, but with the Potters and Weasleys coming and going to offer birthday wishes to Scorpius, they hadn't had much of choice. Scorpius found himself sitting next to Ainsley at the long dining table with a chess board in front of them an Orion nestled into the crook of his arm.

"Your move," Scorpius said, reclining in the seat. He was terrible at chess despite Albus' best efforts to help him. Nearby, Hermione gave him a look of pity and understanding.

While Ainsley considered her next move, Scorpius looked down at his brother, sleeping soundly wrapped in a cashmere blanket. It was too soon to tell, but Scorpius was sure he'd gotten the Malfoy eyes, and he was very pleased.

"You're going to be a handsome little wizard, aren't you?" Scorpius whispered to him. Orion only shifted in response, his tiny hand grasping at some of his blanket's fringe. Zar rested his massive head on Scorpius' knee, sniffing the blanket. The dog had calmed down considerably in the last few months as he moved closer to canine adulthood and, thanks to Albus and Draco's efforts, was remarkably well-trained. Scorpius scratched behind his ears and was rewarded with Zar's happiest expression – closed eyes and a lolling tongue.

Across the table, Harry, Draco, and Ginny were engaged in a heated discussion about the future of Britain's pureblood families and Scorpius promptly tuned them out. He'd had a long enough day without listening to his father talk about 'integration' and 'outreach.'

"Are you _certain_ there wasn't a letter from Albus?" Scorpius asked as Dania passed him. Each hour without word from Albus had him growing more and more anxious – enough that he was finding concentration difficult. With a sympathetic smile, she shook her head.

"No, dear," Dania said. "I already checked, remember?"

"Oh… right."

It wasn't until Ainsley nudged him under the table and offered to take Orion that Scorpius realized it was his turn. His king was in check. Again. He sighed dramatically and rested his head against his palm. Would he ever be able to win a chess match?

Reluctantly, he surrendered the baby to better focus.

Ainsley's prideful expression as she cuddled Orion didn't help matters. He grabbed his fork and picked at his nearby cake absently, considering his next move. If only he hadn't lost that knight…

Scorpius grumbled under his breath about chess being an aggravating game, trying desperately to tune out the movement around him, absently scratching behind Zar's ears. He tapped a finger against his cheek impatiently, looking for _any_ move that would lead to a slightly less embarrassing loss.

It wasn't until the room had gone suspiciously quiet that Scorpius looked up from the board. Across the table, Ginny's gaze was fixed on the doorway.

"Sorry I'm late."

He followed her line of sight down the table and across the room where Albus – _Albus_ – was standing in the doorway, dropping a duffle bag on the floor and freeing his black hair from a sock cap, shaking it free with a smug grin on his face.

"Albus?" Scorpius asked in disbelief, a chill washing down his shoulders to his fingertips. In his periphery, Draco sipped his wine calmly, observing.

"Happy Birthday?" Albus said with measured uncertainty and a shrug. He wore in a familiar blue jumper that had taken damage in the last few months –a burn on the sleeve and the neck frayed. His skin was well beyond sunburned – he was tan and even a bit freckly – an absolute mess from traveling and Scorpius had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

It took a minute for Scorpius to regain his senses, and in that time Zar wiggled free from his place at Scorpius' feet and bounded down the length of the room, barking in delight.

Scorpius realized what was happening far too late, shoving himself back from the table.

"Zar, no!" he cried, but the dog was too far away already, preparing to leap at Albus and send his cane flying and both of them to the floor. Scorpius could only watch in horror, reaching for his wand.

But Albus laughed and bent down as Zar flew at him and caught him around the middle, lifting all 30-plus kilograms of black and white fur off the ground, steady and beaming. Scorpius watched in confusion as Zar's pink tongue lapped at Albus' face. The dog whined in excitement, squirming and licking at Albus' cheeks and forehead with both front paws resting on his human's shoulders.

"Albus?" Harry asked, setting his Butterbeer down. Scorpius stared, open-mouthed.

"Hey, buddy," Albus said to Zar, hugging him tightly. His weight was firmly set on his right leg, but he was upright. Stable. Standing and entirely unfazed as he measured Scorpius' reaction, his eyes flickering towards his parents on the other side of the room. Scorpius watched, his heart in his throat, as Albus bent, letting Zar slide to the ground where the dog pressed his body against Albus' legs and licked at his hand.

"Albus, where's your cane?" Ginny said gently. Albus looked at Scorpius for a second longer before looking at his mother, wiping at his face.

"When you're Harry Potter's son and you're thrust into a group of experienced rehabilitation specialists from around the world, you wind up being everyone's pet project," Albus said slowly. He looked from his mother to his father who was slowly setting his drink down on the table.

"It's not… perfect. I still have a limp," Albus continued. "But it's also not killing me anymore."

Albus took a few steps towards Scorpius – his limp nearly unperceivable – who stood still in surprise and shock, his eyes flickering from Albus' dirty shoes to his face.

"Scorp?" Albus said uncertainly. As Scorpius' surprise broke, he felt the tightness in his throat loosen as feeling rushed back to his fingertips and turned into something else entirely, spreading down to his stomach and up to his ears. Feeling returned in full force. He moved toward Albus and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face against his boyfriend's neck wordlessly with a small whimper he hoped no one else heard.

"That's more like it," Albus chuckled, muffled against Scorpius' shoulder. Scorpius ignored the muted sounds of the other's greetings as Albus' family pressed in on them. The world narrowed into only the smell that existed at the juncture of Albus' neck and shoulders and he felt Albus' hands pressing into his back, holding him close and nearly tight enough to hurt.

"Why are you here?" Scorpius asked, muffled against Albus' neck. The rough fabric of his jumper rubbed against Scorpius' cheek and he made a mental note to dispose of it as soon as possible – not that he intended to allow Albus to wear it for very long once they got home.

"It's your birthday," Albus said softly, as though the answer was as plain as day. "I'd gone too long without seeing you, so I moved some things around and asked for a few favors so I could be here for a day."

"A day?" Scorpius asked, scandalized and pulling back a bit. He could feel the others' eyes on his back, waiting for their turn with Albus. They were going to have to wait a moment longer. "Only a day?"

Albus nodded, his hand sliding over Scorpius' back. Scorpius fought back a shiver and reminded himself that there were other people in the room.

"I'll have to leave Sunday morning," Albus said. Scorpius sighed and pressed his forehead against Albus' – a simple gesture they'd always found comfort in. Something so familiar that, for a breath, Scorpius felt Albus had never left.

"This is the best present," Scorpius said. "Is this why you weren't writing?"

"I didn't get a chance before I left and it took almost two days to get here. Connections and then Floo connections… I'm sorry. I know I worried you. I didn't realize how many days it had been until I was already on the way."

He got only a moment to breathe before Albus kissed him – too little and too brief and just enough to be frustrating – and released him to greet his family.

Ginny had her arms around Albus within seconds, and Scorpius was more than a bit concerned that her grip was going to kill his boyfriend before he got a chance to talk with him. She was laughing, and Scorpius was sure he saw tears in her eyes as she released him to Harry, who embraced Albus with such enthusiasm that he nearly knocked his glasses own to the floor.

Scorpius leaned back onto the table, reluctantly giving them space and watching the way Albus moved from person to person, greeting Draco and Hermione, his steps imperfect but sure-footed despite Zar's best efforts. The dog kept winding himself between everyone's legs trying to get closer to Albus, gently licking and nipping at his fingertips whenever they were within reach.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected," Draco said, leaning beside Scorpius as Ainsley greeted Albus. Scorpius glanced at him. Draco had Orion safely nestled in the crook of his arm and a glass of wine casually dangling from his other hand.

"You knew," Scorpius accused. "Of course you knew."

Draco only smiled and sipped his wine. Scorpius wanted to be angry with him, but it was difficult with Albus smiling over Ainsley's shoulder at him. He knew that look well. It was one of relief – like when Albus came home after a long day or when he found out he _hadn't_ failed a big potions exam.

"This must be Orion," Albus said, noticing the bundle in Draco's arms for the first time. Draco nodded as Orion, disturbed by all the commotion, began fussing about in his blanket. Albus took the baby from Draco's arms carefully, cradling him with an expression so open and awestruck that Scorpius ached. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he'd keep them to himself.

"He looks like you," Albus said to Scorpius, grinning from under the curtain of hair that had fallen forward. He was in desperate need of a haircut, but for once Scorpius didn't mind. "Well, he looks like both of you," Albus added to Draco.

"He has Dania's nose," Draco said as his wife joined them. He pulled her close and she rested her head against his shoulder. "And he very clearly has her hands."

"Thank Merlin," Scorpius said. "No bony knuckles."

Albus was whispering to the infant, introducing himself as if Orion could understand him. Scorpius caught Ginny and Harry watching him closely, contentedly holding each other's hands.

Albus turned and swayed as he soothed the baby and Scorpius felt a nervous twitch begin in his hands. Fortunately, Albus noticed a moment later and took mercy on him.

"I think he wants his mum," Albus said as Orion began making noises indicative of impending tears. Dania took him carefully and cradled him against her chest.

Scorpius took Albus' hand as soon as it was free and drew him close, unsatisfied until Albus was pressed against his side.

"Where are Lily and James?" Albus asked.

"Lily was working late and James…"

"I think he had dinner with a friend," Ainsley supplied. "But I'm sure he'd be right here if he knew."

Scorpius felt a familiar thrill as Harry drew his wand, wordlessly conjuring his Patronus. The brilliant, near-opaque stag formed in front of him, glowing and bright, and turned to Harry, awaiting its message. Harry told the stag to find James and Lily, and it bounded off toward the window, splitting into two iterations of itself just before it disappeared through the pane.

"I never get tired of that," Scorpius said. Harry grinned sheepishly and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Did you ever manage it?" Albus asked. "A Patronus?"

Scorpius shook his head, looking down at his boyfriend, nearly nose-to-nose. Now he wondered which was worse – watching Albus with everyone else and being unable to touch him, or having him pressed against his side and being unable to do everything he wanted. Scorpius settled for the latter and held Albus to his side where he nestled into Scorpius' shoulder for a moment.

 _Maybe this memory would be happy enough_ , he thought.

The others had a lot of questions – what was Brazil like? How was the Castelobruxo Preserve? Did he like the people he was there with? They skirted the issue of the dragon attack and Scorpius tuned them out, letting Albus give the others all the answers he'd already given in his lengthier letters, choosing instead to focus on Albus.

When Albus had left for Brazil, Scorpius had known it would be difficult to adjust – that there would be a space beside him that no one could fill. He'd thought that, as the weeks went on, the void would be easier to bear, but found instead that it only grew. It frightened him sometimes how much he needed Albus to feel safe and content and how the company and love of others was great, but insufficient without the complement of Albus' presence, and when he'd panicked briefly that Albus had been hurt or worse…

Scorpius watched as Albus talked, his eyes bright. He counted the freckles on Albus' nose and cheeks, imagining constellations in them. He studied the small mole just behind his ear, hidden by a wave of dark hair. It was so small and insignificant that no one else would notice unless they were aware of it, but with Albus so close it was all he could focus on – this small mark that he was sure only he could see.

When Pokey and Pike came through a few moments later to remove plates and inconspicuously sweep crumbs from the tablecloth, Scorpius gestured Pike over.

"Yes, Master Scorpius?" Pike asked. A small smile played at her thin lips and Scorpius couldn't help grinning at her. Pike had seemed more at ease lately, and Scorpius was glad to see some of her anxiousness wash away.

"Do you think you could get me some coffee when you get the chance?"

Pike nodded and took off – Scorpius assumed to do just that. Albus, momentarily freed from the discussion, gave him a quizzical look.

"You never drink coffee in the evening," Albus said. "Don't tell me you've changed all your habits while I've been gone. You're so particular and I can't relearn everything."

Scorpius gave him a mocking sneer before smiling at him.

"I'm not planning on getting much sleep tonight," Scorpius said, quiet enough that no one could hear.

Albus smirked.

"Oh really?" he asked. "Are we going to stay up all night talking? Or are you at a particularly good part of your book?"

Scorpius gave him a dry look, and Albus' smirk broke into a grin. With their backs to the others, Albus chose to slide his hand into the back pocket of Scorpius' trousers. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the look on Albus' face.

"Okay," Albus said. "Is it too much to ask that we get out of here soon? I know I need to see my family, but I'd like to have you all to myself –"

Scorpius didn't get the chance to agree. Lily entered the room with James close behind, brushing soot from his shoulder. Albus let Scorpius go, grinning ear-to-ear as he stepped away to greet his siblings. Scorpius fought hard to contain the patented Malfoy-pout and shoved his hands back in his pockets as Lily threw her arms around her brother's neck, her shoulder length hair swaying with the motion.

"Albus!"

"I think you're Lily," Albus said, "but Lily has longer hair, so I'm confused."

Lily held him at arm's length with a scowl.

"People are allowed to change things," Lily said to him. She shook her hair back and held her head high. "Besides, I wanted something different."

James took his turn to embrace his brother, who looked supremely uncomfortable with his sister's change.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Because none of you can keep a secret," Albus said. He pointed from James to Ainsley. "And I know you tell her everything."

James looked as if he were ready to protest, but the look on Ainsley's face plainly said that Albus was right – James _did_ tell her everything.

"You're moving funny," Lily noted, looking Albus over as James gave him some space. "Why are you moving funny?"

"It's the _opposite_ of him moving funny," Scorpius said. "Look."

Albus stood awkwardly as Lily and James regarded him.

"Is your leg better?" James asked after a moment. Albus nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's a long story," Albus said. "I'll explain later, I promise."

"What happened with the dragon?" Lily asked quickly when she found an opening. Clearly, she'd been waiting.

Scorpius cringed and watched Albus' face turn from happiness to something reluctant and pained. Leave it to Lily to break the ice in the most uncomfortable way possible.

"Exactly what the papers said, I'm sure," Albus said cautiously. He glanced over his shoulder nervously at Scorpius as everyone stood around him, quiet and waiting. Whether he was looking for support or not, Scorpius was at his side instantly, ready to offer it anyway.

Albus looked from face to face for a moment while they all waited for him to speak and Scorpius slid his arm around Albus' shoulders, giving him space but grounding him at the same time. Albus leaned into the contact, seemingly grateful.

"We had an adult Opaleye at the preserve," Albus explained. "It was injured by some rogue hunters, and when their law enforcement caught them, they brought the dragon to Castelorbuxo. We were rehabilitating it, and it was pretty mild mannered –"

"Yeah, sounds like it," Lilly scoffed. Ginny slapped her arm.

"We never did figure out what happened, but one evening it went berserk. The records we kept were burned, but it's possible that someone missed a feeding or treatment. It broke free from the wards we had around its paddock and tore into the village."

Everyone stared at Albus, and Scorpius wasn't sure when he'd last seen his boyfriend so uncomfortable. He gave Albus' side a small squeeze and Albus shrugged.

"That's all there is to it," Albus said. "We tried to contain it before it destroyed the rest of the village, but it kept fighting and… well, I'm not sure who actually killed it. It may very well have been me. We spent the next week cleaning up the mess."

"Al…" Harry started, but swallowed, clearly looking for the right words. "I'm sorry. That's not what you expected when you went there."

"Before that it was great," Albus said. "And I think everyone's just dedicated to helping the beasts that survived and making sure something like this doesn't happen again. And that they keep the preserve open."

"You're not going to stay longer, are you?" Scorpius asked. Albus shook his head and looked down.

"No. They asked us to and some are, but once my time in the program is up, I'm going to come straight home."

Scorpius felt about as relieved as Harry and Ginny looked.

"Well, that sounds awful," Lily said. "You should just stay here where you're safe."

"Just because something isn't as safe as being at home doesn't mean you shouldn't do it," Albus countered. "Besides, I want to finish the certification."

James sighed and rubbed his face as Ainsley slipped to his side. It looked natural to Scorpius – the way she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head reaching just below the top of his shoulder. She didn't grin into his embrace – it just looked comfortable, like the way he felt when he lay his head against Albus' lap while they were reading.

"I wish you wouldn't," James said. "You scared the hell out of us."

"Frankly, I'm used to it," Ginny said with a defeated shrug. "It runs in the family."

"That's sadly accurate," Hermione agreed.

They fell into friendly banter, and Albus started filling Lily and James in on all the creatures he'd worked with since he left. After a few minutes, the group migrated into the sitting room where Scorpius and Albus sat on the sofa with Dania and Ginny, letting Draco lean against the mantle and leaving Lily, Harry James and Ainsley to sit on the floor.

Despite having enough space, Albus crowded Scorpius into the corner of the couch, pressing against his side and putting pressure on the dark bruise that still lingered. Scorpius cringed, once again cursing the dangers that lurked in his father's attic, but said nothing lest Albus move away, and when Albus draped his arm around his shoulders, Scorpius melted into his side, feeling fully at home.

* * *

It was late when everyone started to yawn and began heading home. Albus seemed happy to receive hugs from each of his family members, and Scorpius wasn't sure who grinned more when Albus hugged his sister hard enough to lift her off the floor like he used to – Lily, Ginny or himself.

"I'm exhausted," Albus told Harry as his parents got ready to depart, bending down as he talked to scratch behind Zar's ears. "I just want to sleep in my own bed."

"Yeah, I bet he does," muttered Ainsley, appearing at Scorpius' arm and grinning sideways at him. He elbowed her gently in the ribs.

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," she continued. "I know how incorrigible those Potter boys can be."

"Please stop," Scorpius whined. The last thing he wanted to think about was what Ainsley and James did in their spare time.

"Does Albus have a thing for back rubs too? Because James –"

"I am literally begging you," Scorpius interrupted. Ainsley laughed at his discomfort. "I have never wanted someone to stop talking so much in my life."

Ainsley smirked, clearly pleased with herself as James, lingering for a moment after his parents and sister left, came over to see her.

"Can I come by for lunch tomorrow?" he asked her, earning an enthusiastic nod. "I guess we're having dinner at my parents' place tomorrow for Albus. You'll come, right?"

"Of course," Ainsley agreed. Scorpius watched as James, a good six inches taller than her, enveloped his cousin in his arms. He was afraid for a moment she'd disappear and looked away quickly, feeling as if he were intruding on something private.

"Are you ready to go?" Albus asked. His smile was bright but his eyes betrayed how tired he was. Scorpius held out his hand, quickly summoning Albus' bag from its corner, wincing as a sudden pain shot across his temple.

"Absolutely," Scorpius said. He hugged both Draco and Dania goodbye quickly, lingering only to give Orion a kiss on the forehead before meeting Albus at the fireplace.

"So we'll see you tomorrow?" Scorpius asked them, attaching Zar's leash.

"Of course," Draco said.

Scorpius barely had a chance to bid them a good night before Albus threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and tugged him into the flames.

* * *

Albus had wanted to spend time with his family in his brief visit home. He did. He loved them and they were important and he wanted very much to catch up on everything that was going on in their lives.

But he'd spent the entire journey back to Britain thinking about seeing Scorpius, and even though he knew he'd be walking into a gathering of other people, he was still very disappointed that he hadn't been able to orchestrate even a few minutes alone with his boyfriend.

So, when he stepped out of the fireplace and into their sitting room, Albus was immediately relieved. Scorpius unhooked Zar's leash, letting the dog bound off to seize his favorite bone from the floor. With a wave of his wand, Albus lit one of the lanterns across the room, giving himself just enough light to see that the only change in the room was a small scattering of papers and notes on the coffee table.

Albus threw his things into one of the chairs and got halfway through shrugging out of his jacket when he found himself being thoroughly captured and kissed.

At first, Albus laughed against his boyfriend's mouth, blindly negotiating himself out of his sleeves and tossing the jacket away, hoping it landed somewhere other than the floor where Zar would assume it was his. Now freed, he raised his hands to the warmth of Scorpius' neck, sliding them beneath the collar of his shirt and earning him a brief, needy moan from his boyfriend.

"I've missed you," Scorpius muttered between kisses. "So much."

"I missed you too."

"And you can walk."

"Mostly."

Scorpius pulled back, dragging Albus a few steps so he could sit on the arm of the couch and pull Albus close. Without their families around, Scorpius was dissolving into a clingy mess, looking nearly as desperate as Albus felt. Now lowered a few inches, he buried his face in Albus' chest, pulling him close. Albus hummed in contentment, smoothing down Scorpius' hair and cradling the back of his head while Scorpius caught his breath.

"You can walk," Scorpius repeated. "How?"

"Different healing techniques. There's a witch from Mongolia in our group who has a particular kind of training at the intersection of curse breaking and healing. And the Brazilian wizard who died in the Opaleye attack was very, _very_ good with potions. Between the two of them…"

Albus trailed off as Scorpius' hand roamed down his previously sore leg. Where the used to be a constant, dull pain (and a sharp one when he did something exceptionally stupid), there was now just stiff muscles and the occasional twinge – enough to disrupt his gait, but never enough to ruin his day.

"But you're okay?"

"I'm much better," Albus assured him, gently raking Scorpius' hair back from his face. "It was a bit… painful while they tested out different things. I couldn't walk at all one day. But finally, it started to work. I wanted to tell you but I needed to know it would hold."

Scorpius looked up at him, his chin resting against the center of Albus' chest. His eyes were watery beneath his glasses, and Albus carefully removed the frames from his face, setting them aside. Scorpius blinked a few times to adjust but didn't seem to mind.

"You're all blurry," Scorpius said.

"That's fine."

Albus leaned down to kiss him again with a hand cupping Scorpius' jaw. He'd thought of this many times when he missed home – what it would be like to return and have Scorpius waiting. He'd found himself struggling to remember what their kitchen smelled like or the exact temperature of his boyfriend's skin first thing in the morning – things he'd often taken for granted and hadn't committed to memory.

He ran his hands over Scorpius' shoulders and then his sides, every part of him happy to be where he belonged again if only for a day until Scorpius jolted a bit under his hands.

"What's wrong?" Albus asked.

"Nothing. Just a bruise," Scorpius said, pulling up his jumper vest and shirt to reveal a patch of blue and green skin over his hip. "I walked into a table in dad's attic. It's not a big deal."

Albus ran his thumb over the stretch of skin carefully, frowning.

"It looks bad. Did you take something for it?"

"It's fine," Scorpius replied and seized Albus' face between his hands and kissed him again before he could question further. It was an effective distraction technique that he'd figured out early in their relationship. Albus didn't mind.

After a few moments, Scorpius started tugging Albus' jumper free, sliding both hands up and over his back. It was more contact than Albus had enjoyed in months and his breath caught in his throat.

"What's this?" Scorpius asked against his lips, feeling over a rough patch of skin on the back of Albus' right shoulder.

"That? Oh. Heh."

Albus tugged his jumper over his head and tossed it over the back of the couch before turning just a bit so Scorpius could see the scar. The small ridge of scar tissue was visible in the low light, as were the markings over it.

"I got into a minor scuffle with an adolescent hippogriff," Albus explained. "Not a big deal, but a few days later at Stephen's birthday party, I had a bit too much to drink and it had just finished healing."

"And drunk-Albus thought _this_ was a good idea?"

"Well, drunk-Albus missed you quite a bit," Albus said, blushing. "And apparently sober-Albus wouldn't shut up about you and Riya took out her kit. One thing led to another."

Scorpius ran his fingers over the scar. The line it had created served for the base of the tattoo, and Scorpius clearly recognized it immediately as a simple but stylized version of the constellation he'd been named after. Albus looked at him over his shoulder, appraising his reaction and was pleased to see the amused smile that crept across his face.

"I'm not sure if this is funny or sweet."

"Can we go with sweet?"

"Let's go with sweet," Scorpius agreed, tugging Albus back around by the cord of the amulet around his neck – an old gift that Albus kept with him nearly at all times. He pressed his lips to Albus' neck – something Albus could rarely stay coherent through even under normal circumstances, and having been separated from his better half for months on end was far from standard.

Albus was about five seconds from completely losing all coherent thought when Scorpius, whose leg was wrapped around the back of his thighs and hands were roaming all across his exposed back, went still and pulled back to look at him. Albus groaned in protest.

"Seriously, though," Scorpius said. "That's permanent."

"So is this."

Scorpius shut up immediately, his jaw tight and a bit of moisture clinging to his blonde eyelashes. He wasn't crying. Nor was he about to cry. Scorpius just had the unfortunate habit of getting teary when he was emotional about anything – something Albus was endlessly grateful for. It was a cue he couldn't ignore, not unlike the nervous twitch he had in his neck that told Scorpius when he was annoyed or frustrated.

Scorpius raked his hand through Albus' hair, pushing it back from his face. It had grown out, falling shaggy around his temples and neck, looking more like his father's from his early post-Hogwarts years than Albus was comfortable with, but if it meant Scorpius kept twisting it around his fingers…

"I love you," Scorpius said.

Albus smiled. He didn't need to be reminded, but it was so lovely to hear instead of imagining his voice as he read the words scrawled at the end of a letter.

"I love you too," Albus responded. "Now can we go upstairs where I can take this damn vest off you?"

Scorpius grinned and nodded, but instead of standing he tugged Albus back down and kissed him again.

It was a long time before they got upstairs.

* * *

 

Scorpius woke up late in the morning, dozing off several times before finally coming to full consciousness. It was easy to ignore the sunlight coming in from the window with Albus stretched out beside him on his stomach, the sheets pushed halfway down his back.

He grabbed his watch from the side table to check the time. Scorpius rarely slept until ten o'clock these days, but they'd stayed awake well into the morning. He smiled at the thought before rolling over to look at Albus, who was sound asleep.

Scorpius made no secret that sleepy-Albus was one of his favorite versions of his boyfriend. Half-asleep Albus was only somewhat coherent and soft and Scorpius loved the things he'd say and never remember, but there was something to be said for sleeping-Albus and the way he rarely snored even though his mouth was always open just a bit and how relaxed his face looked.

Albus had gotten the best parts of both his genetics in Scorpius' opinion. He'd fallen somewhere between Harry's thin build and Charlie's strength and had inherited Ginny's clear skin and ability to freckle. But it was his eyes that always did Scorpius in – the way they always showed whatever Albus was feeling or thinking with such intensity. Though they looked just like Harry's, the way Albus looked at things was entirely his own.

Scorpius traced over the eighteen stars and connecting lines of Albus' tattoo with his fingertips.

 _Graffias, Antares, Shaula,_ Scorpius thought, touching each major star. _Lesath, U Scorpii._

_Permanent. Permanent. Permanent._

Scorpius stared at him, grateful and in awe that Albus traveled for what would amount to three days just to see him for one until Albus finally stirred, rolling onto his back, and opened his eyes.

"Good morning," Scorpius whispered. Albus turned toward the sound of his voice, grappling at the sheets until he found Scorpius' arm.

"'Morning," Albus muttered. Scorpius grinned and pushed his dark hair back from his face.

Scorpius muttered, trying to preserve the stillness as long as possible. "It's late."

"I know."

Albus closed his eyes again as he stretched out on his back, ligaments, and joints crackling as he moved. As he settled, Scorpius watched the rise and fall of Albus' chest and saw a thin tan line where the cord of his old amulet typically lay. He'd seen it briefly the night before and seeing that Albus still wore it had its usual effect on Scorpius – an immediate surge of affection and nostalgia.

Albus' thumb moved idly over the rough, faded scars on Scorpius' wrist.

"I guess we both have plenty of scars," Scorpius commented. Albus hummed in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It's okay," Albus breathed. "It reminds us of where we've been."

Scorpius slid his cold toes under Albus' bare calf, his fingers playing nervously over his ribs, counting them down towards his abdomen and then walking back up his chest, his intention becoming blissfully clear with each passing second.

"Hey, Albus?"

"Yeah?"

"Marry me?"

It came out half like a question and half like a request, and Scorpius wasn't sure which it was. Youth or not Scorpius had made his decision a long time ago. He'd stay with Albus the rest of his life if he could – however long or brief a time that might be – and he knew Albus would do the same, but a day of wondering if Albus was alive or dead halfway around the world had offered some perspective that Scorpius wasn't willing to let fade into memory.

Albus' eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before his head fell to the side. He stared at Scorpius. The lines of his face were a bit blurry, but he was close enough that Scorpius could see the surprise on his face. 

"Marry me," Scorpius repeated. Time slowed down, giving him room to think. He should have prepared a speech or some kind of monologue. He could usually wax poetic about the things he loved about Albus all day long, but now that Albus was staring at him, he found himself vulnerable and wordless.

Albus could say no. There were a million reasons why he might, and while Albus took his sweet time studying Scorpius' face, they started to form a list in Scorpius' mind, from most obscure to increasingly evident –

"Yes."

It wasn't until Albus spoke that Scorpius realized only a few seconds of silence had passed. Albus was beaming at him – the brilliant grin he saved for the happiest of occasions, like meeting a new member of the family, getting a puppy, or graduating. It was his Christmas grin and his birthday smile turned up a few notches.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Scorpius stared at Albus' face, torn between staying still to look at him and smothering him with affection. The latter won out and Albus met him in the middle, closing the space between. Scorpius felt Albus' arms close around him – Albus' hand in his hair, the other splayed across his back, cradling him and clutching him close as he laughed.

"I was wondering when – or if I should just do it. I didn't know -"

"Right? Are there rules? Are we supposed to get rings?"

"I don't know!"

Scorpius laughed, pushing Albus onto his back. He was still grinning – Scorpius wondered when he last saw so many of Albus' teeth – with his big eyes very much awake. He pushed Scorpius' hair back from his face, holding it out of the way as he looked up at him.

"I love you," Scorpius said. "I love you so much, and you make me so happy. I don't want to ever do anything without you."

"I've already said yes," Albus laughed. "No need to keep convincing me."

Scorpius bowed his head against Albus' shoulder, grinning ear-to-ear as he considered his luck that Albus Potter, the best friend he'd ever had and the only person he'd ever loved, would want to marry him.

"I love you too," Albus whispered, kissing Scorpius' temple. "I knew we'd wind up here."

"I knew we would too."

"We have to tell our parents."

Scorpius hummed, his mouth quirked into an uneven smile as he looked down at his fiancé.

 _Fiancé_ , Scorpius thought. _Sounds so grown up._

"Later," he muttered, dipping down to kiss a trail down Albus' neck and shoulders, making his skin tingle all the way down to his fingertips. "I'm busy."

* * *

Scorpius let Albus go for only as much time as they needed to get dressed, and even then he didn't seem happy about it. He held onto Albus' hand as they walked down the stairs, kept his hand on Albus' back as he greeted Zar, stayed close to his side while they ate and talked and had his arm looped through Albus' as they used the Floo network to get to the Potters' home in the evening.

Albus didn't seem to mind one bit. If he only had a few hours left before heading back to Brazil, he needed each minute to count.

"So clingy," Scorpius teased as Albus snuggled up beside him on the couch, seeking as much socially acceptable contact as possible.

"You're the one who decided you wanted to be stuck with me forever," Albus muttered. "Don't start complaining now."

"There's still time to change my mind," Scorpius said. The smile on his face said otherwise.

"Not really," Albus countered. "Rose was right – we've been inseparable since we were kids. Might as well make it official."

Scorpius hummed as Albus stretched his legs across his lap, leaning back onto the arm of the couch. He winced a bit.

"Is your leg bothering you?"

Albus chuckled, folding Scorpius' hand in between his own.

"A bit," he admitted. "I may have… overexerted myself last night."

Scorpius blushed, thankful that Albus' parents were in the kitchen for the moment.

"And this morning," Albus added.

He hid his face against Albus' neck, grinning and embarrassed. From the other room, Scorpius heard more voices than before.

"Dad must be here," he said.

"We should tell them over dinner," Albus said, ruffling the hair at the base of Scorpius' neck. "Try not to break anything this time."

  
Scorpius' hand twitched at the memory of the shattered glass.

"They can fight over who gets to do the planning."

"I don't envy you," Albus admitted. "Having to deal with that until I get back."

"It'll be fun," Scorpius said, though he was trying to convince himself. "Planning a special day for us and all of our friends and family. It will be nice."

He felt Albus smile against his temple as Draco, Harry and Ginny came into the room. Ainsley followed close behind, talking to Orion.

"Dania sends her regrets," Draco said to Scorpius and Albus. "She'd already promised to visit her father tonight and he'd made plans."

"I understand," Albus said. "Are James and Lily here yet?"

"I think they're on their way," Harry said, setting a few pizza boxes down on the table. The smell reached Scorpius, reluctantly drawing him from his place tucked into Albus' side. The smell of melted cheese had that effect on him.

Albus reached for the pizza box and his hand was quickly batted away by Ginny.

"Wait for your brother and sister," she admonished. Albus pouted until she kissed his forehead on her way to her armchair, but stood her ground. "Just wait."

Scorpius rubbed his calf in consolation while Albus eyed the pizza longingly – an expression not unlike the one he'd worn last night.

"I haven't had pizza for months," he whispered desperately.

The sound of a small commotion from the other room preceded James and Lily stumbling into the room. James looked beat with a smear of dirt across his cheek and a tear in his Gringotts robe, while Lily looked positively bubbly, bouncing in.

"Hello!" she chirped.

"What's got you so excited?" Harry asked.

"I _finally_ secured a major international contract for the shop," Lily announced. "I've been working on it for _weeks_."

Scorpius knew Lily was excited about her job working for Madam Malkin's expanded line of wizard wear and he was glad to see that she was succeeding. James, however, looked less than happy with whatever he'd done that day. Ainsley lay Orion in Ginny's arms before helping him clean what looked like black slime from his sleeve.

"One of the older vaults in the bank had an old curse on it," James mumbled. "Started to break down – you know how they are, needing to be refreshed every few decades. I have no idea what was in there before but it's acidic sludge now."

Draco wrinkled his nose as James pried his robe off, exposing his boots which now sported several gaping holes along the side.

"Rowle looks worse," James assured them as Ainsley started to fret over him. "I got lucky. He had to get patched up at St. Mungo's."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ainsley asked. Scorpius saw the way James smiled down at her, loving and bright, and it made him feel warm inside. She looked happy.

"I'm all right," James said. "Just need to take a shower first."

When James stepped back towards the stairs, Albus sat up. Scorpius jumped as he bumped the bruise on his side.

"Sorry," Albus said quickly. "Sorry, sorry – James, can you wait a second?"

James gave an exhausted sigh but paused, leaning onto the banister for support.

"Sure. What's up?"

Albus looked to Scorpius who shrugged. They didn't have a plan for telling their families about their engagement but then again, they hadn't had a plan for telling them they were together a few years ago.

"Well, we wanted to tell you all –"

"We decided –"

"We're getting married," Albus said finally.

Scorpius wasn't prepared when Lily launched herself at them. Albus nearly caught her, laughing as she fell across both their laps, embracing them.

"Congratulations!" she squealed. Albus let her hug him a second time, his face buried in her hair as she slid to sit on the couch next to them.

Ginny was smiling at them warmly, still holding Orion, while Harry laughed at his children's half-hugging, half-wrestling. While they offered their congratulations, kissing Albus and Scorpius' cheeks and ruffling their hair, Scorpius craned around them to see his father's face.

Draco was leaning against the hearth, watching his son closely and carefully as the Potters embraced him. Scorpius had only seen that warm smile that showed love without reservation a few times in his life, though it had been happening more frequently. It was moments like this that Draco resembled his son more than Scorpius resembled him.

"Dad?" Scorpius asked. He disentangled himself from the Potters and staggered over to Draco. "Dad, are you okay with this?"

"Of course I am," Draco said softly, raising his hands to rest on Scorpius' shoulders. They felt heavy. "How could I not be? You look so happy."

"I just… I didn't talk to you about it beforehand. It wasn't a plan, we just –"

"I know," Draco said fondly. "Remember? I did the same thing."

Scorpius thought of the story Draco had told him a long time ago – that he'd proposed to his mother in Paris impulsively when he knew the moment was right. He hadn't had a plan even though he'd been thinking of it for a while, and Scorpius supposed he'd had this in the back of his mind for a long time…

Draco drew him into a hug that seemed endless. He held onto Scorpius' shoulders for a long time while Harry and Ginny took their time fawning over Albus.

"I'm so happy for you," Draco said, quiet enough that no one else could hear.

"Even though I'm marrying a Potter?"

"As long as it's the Slytherin one, it's okay," Draco said. When he released Scorpius, he was grinning. "I know you'll take care of each other."

Lily and Albus were still laughing in a tangle, and James sat nearby, removed. He seemed to be pleased but exhaustion was overtaking him. Scorpius wrinkled his nose. He'd long wished James was more open to him, but he'd been so lucky with Lily, Harry and Ginny. He supposed he couldn't have everything.

"So, _Potter_ ," Draco said. Scorpius saw Harry smirk and fold his arms.

" _Malfoy_."

"I suppose this will make us family now."

"We were already very distant cousins," Harry pointed out.

"Well, if you're going to be my son's father-in-law, there's going to need to be some rules," Draco said, stepping around Scorpius.

"Oh, bloody hell. Here we go," James said. Ainsley wrapped her arms around Scorpius' waist from the side. He hugged her back, kissing the top of her head affectionately as Draco and Harry stared each other down.

"Rules?" Harry said. "You know very well that the Potters don't do 'rules' very well."

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked at Scorpius. He'd spent most of the day being blissfully happy with Albus and hadn't stopped to think about what their marriage would entail beyond spending the rest of his days with Albus. This second family that he had fallen in love with – that he had spent holidays with, celebrated with and cried with – was going to become a permanent part of his life. Harry and Ginny would be his second parents. Lily would be his sister. And James…

Well, James would probably still just be an enigma, but at least he and Ainsley seemed to be happy. She deserved that much, at least.

"You can't go off getting yourself scarred up – well, any more than you already are," Draco said, pointing lazily at Harry's forehead. "Not between now and the wedding. It will ruin the photos."

"And you're going to have to wear something other than black," Lily said, popping up at Harry's side. "It's not a funeral."

"I like bla –"

"No, she's right, Draco," Albus chimed in. "No black."

Draco glared at him.

"Obviously, the wedding will be at the Manor –"

"Or The Burrow, like ours was," Harry said.

Draco looked quite unhappy. Clearly, this conversation was not going the way he'd wanted.

"The Manor has a lovely garden, and the terrace would be perfect."

"The Burrow is warm and inviting and my family is there," Ginny said, bouncing Orion who had been disturbed by all the commotion.

"Ginny, see reason –"

Albus pulled himself up from the couch, exasperated, and made his way to Scorpius' side.

"I knew this would happen," he said as they continued bickering.

"I think it's lovely," Ainsley said softly. "They already want to make it perfect for you."

"Excuse me," Scorpius said. Harry, Ginny and Draco ignored him, continuing to argue the virtues of the wide-open space surrounding Ginny's childhood home and the rose garden outside the Malfoy Manor.

"Excuse me," he tried again.

"Hey!" Albus yelled. The three parents jumped and looked at him, shocked at the sudden noise.

"It's our wedding," Scorpius said. "Don't you think we should get to decide?"

Draco and Harry exchanged perturbed glances.

"Well, have you talked about it?" Draco asked. Scorpius and Albus shook their heads.

"No, but when we do, we'll let you know."

Both Harry and Draco opened their mouths to protest, but Ginny cut them off.

"Please do," Ginny said. Harry looked like he was still ready to continue arguing, and Ginny covered his mouth with her hand. He bit her gently.

"Besides," Albus said, taking Scorpius' hand. He held onto it tight. "We haven't had time to think about it, but we'll figure it out."

Scorpius couldn't help smiling at him – at the way he so kindly told their parents to back off without making it worse. The Albus of five years ago would have been shocked, though likely not impressed. The Scorpius of today had never been more in love.

Ginny looked over to Draco. "See? They'll decide on their own."

"Don't act superior," Draco retorted. "You were ready to hex me to make your point."

"James!" Harry gasped.

James, whose actions had gone unnoticed, was quickly starting on his second slice of pizza.

"What?" he asked through a near-full mouth. Ainsley laughed and Albus, who'd been tortured by the smell of pizza he couldn't touch, dove at the box.

* * *

Somehow, watching Albus leave again wasn't as painful as the first time. Scorpius walked him outside to the pre-arranged Portkey (which he'd learned was the only reason Albus had contacted Draco before showing up) early on Sunday morning and watched as Albus crouched to say goodbye to Zar.

"I'll be back in a few weeks, buddy," he said, scratching behind the dog's ears. Zar seemed to know he was leaving again and had been melancholy for most of the morning. He whined and licked Albus' hand before Albus stood up, adjusting the bag on his back.

"Shame I couldn't find that jumper I wore home," Albus said. Scorpius looked past him innocently.

"Yeah, shame," Scorpius said. "Just take mine anyway. It's softer."

"Hmmm," Albus hummed. "It's unnecessarily soft. I have no reason to take a cashmere jumper to Brazil."

"Well, that's what I had, so…"

Albus beamed up at him, his face soft and amiable. He placed his hand against Scorpius' cheek and Scorpius could feel a slight coldness there from the thin band wrapped around his ring finger. They'd taken a late night trip to Diagon Alley and purchased two small platinum bands – placeholders until they got married.

"So everyone knows you're taken," Albus had said.

"I doubt there's any witch or wizard left in Britain who doesn't know we're together," Scorpius had answered.

Scorpius placed his hands on Albus' side, drawing him closer. He didn't want to make the same mistake as last time and leave himself regretting a cold goodbye.

"I'm going to miss you," Scorpius sighed as Albus' hand worked across his jaw.

"I'll be back before you know it," Albus promised. "And then we're going to get married."

"And then we're going to get married."

Scorpius kissed him long and slow, trying to commit every bit of it to memory. Albus had been back for all too brief a time, but it had been better than perfect. Scorpius held him close until the chime on Albus' watch went off and he sighed.

"I have to go," Albus said against his neck. "Don't get too caught up in the wedding planning until I get back."

"Don't worry," Scorpius said, releasing him. "I've got a few problems of my own to solve before I get to that."

"Problems?"

"Geek problems," Scorpius assured him quickly. "History problems. Work things."

Albus looked at him with such fondness that Scorpius wondered if he'd convinced himself to stay.

"I'll see you soon, love," Albus said again.

"See you soon."

Albus walked over to the rusted garden rake that leaned against their fence. With a last smile back at his fiancé, he grabbed the handle and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm well aware that this is the largest gap I've had between chapters and that the ending of chapter 9 was probably not the best place to leave off. I hope this makes up for it.
> 
> Because look! They're super happy! Everyone is super happy!
> 
> That's totally going to last. You can trust me.
> 
> Come say hi and tell me something good. [ Tumblr ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	11. Ainsley

By mid-May, Scorpius was well and truly tired of coming home to an empty house. His imagination ran rampant every night, thinking about how things might change and stay the same once he and Albus got married. Would it feel different, knowing there was someone he was tied to for the rest of his life? Would it feel restricting or freeing?

 _Comfortable_ , Scorpius decided. _Safe and warm. Like it always is._

It was a particularly fulfilling day when he was finally able to give his first formal lecture. Scorpius was pleased when it was well-received by the historical society. In fact, his research was so sound that the current expert in magical artefacts had asked him to collaborate on his next project.

"Gathering information, of course," he'd said quickly upon seeing Scorpius' enthusiasm. "I believe I have the actual composition covered."

Scorpius came home that night, entirely calm until he spotted a fresh letter resting near the fireplace. He crouched down to retrieve it, deflecting a few affectionate licks from Zar.

* * *

_May 16_

 

_Scorpius,_

_Hey, can you check in on my brother and make sure he's okay? I don't know what happened to make Ainsley break up with him, but I'm sure my parents are worrying over him and driving him mad. Just make sure he's all right and let me know?_

_Thanks._

 

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

 

Scorpius read the letter three times before it sank in that Albus, halfway around the world, had found out about this before he did. He read the letter again just to be sure.

_Ainsley broke up with James._

Albus had apparently assumed Scorpius had known before he did, and Scorpius had every intent of checking in on James as soon as possible – right after he saw to his own family.

* * *

_May 17_

 

_Albus,_

_I'll find out what's going on and let you know._

 

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

"Ainsley?"

Scorpius had checked most of the rooms in the Manor before going down to the kitchens, which, in hindsight, was one of the first places he should have looked for a Hufflepuff.

He found her sitting on the large wooden table that sat at the center of the room with her back to him. She was near the fire with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her hair tied into a messy knot at the back of her neck.

She turned her head to look over her shoulder and gave him a pitiful excuse for a fake smile.

"Hey, Scorp."

He approached her slowly, not sure what to expect.

"Why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

She shrugged and turned back to face the fire. There was a plate on her lap, and when Scorpius rounded the corner, he saw that Pike had made her a handful of cookies. He pulled himself up onto the table and grabbed one, pleased to find that it was still warm.

"It just wasn't working out," Ainsley said.

"It looked fine a few weeks ago."

"Yes, well…" Ainsley trailed off. She took another bite, stalling. It gave Scorpius a chance to study her carefully and see the darkness under her eyes and the sallow look to her cheeks. She'd gone one day too many without washing her hair. "I just want to focus on work right now and… I mean, I started dating James when I was seventeen. I just want to see what else is out there."

She didn't meet his eyes, and Scorpius knew there was more to the story, but he'd also heard her voice waver just a bit over James' name.

"If you're not ready to talk about it, that's fine," Scorpius said, recalling how awful it felt in sixth year when he and Albus had briefly broken up. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone, and Ainsley hadn't pressed him then when he hadn't wanted to talk about it. "But I'm here when you're ready, okay?"

Ainsley nodded, looking down at the now-empty plate. He was at a loss – how many times had Scorpius had to comfort anyone that wasn't Albus or Draco? He could count the instances on one hand. He scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She winced at the contact, but after a moment melted into his side.

Her face was hidden in his shoulder and he couldn't see her crying, but the intermittent sniffing betrayed her.

* * *

Diagon Alley was full despite it being the end of May. Students were still at Hogwarts, but the first truly lovely day of spring had finally arrived, and many families had chosen to get out and do a bit of shopping in the mild weather.

Scorpius had every intent of going straight home until he found out one of his favorite authors - an American witch named Gail Neiman – had finally come out with another installment in her historical fiction series about the Salem witch trials.

 _I can't work all the time_ , Scorpius told himself, soothing the voice in the back of his mind that said leisure reading was a waste of time right now. He had things to do! Problems to solve!

 _I have to take a break_. _I'm no good with my nerves frayed like this_.

He wove his way through the alley, dodging glances from strangers and fearful looks from the children old enough to recognize his face from the papers but not old enough to know that recoiling was impolite.

Scorpius hoped the day would come when he and Albus would adopt their own children. Maybe then, if the wizarding community saw that he and his husband – _husband_ – were raising smart, kind children, they'd see that he couldn't be all bad.

Flourish and Blotts was packed when he arrived. The shopkeepers had thrown open all the windows to let the breeze float in. It carried the scent of flowers from the florist across the street, and for a moment Scorpius seriously considered grabbing a cup of coffee from upstairs and sitting in one of the Papasan chairs by the window and reading until the shop closed.

He moved around the first floor – sliding with his back pressed against the staircase banister to avoid pushing through a crowd of people – looking for an attendant. He'd never find Neiman's book in this disaster.

Being so tall had its advantages sometimes, and Scorpius was glad he could see the cause of the commotion without actually getting closer. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, craning around a wizard's tall hat to see the signing table at the back of the store.

Blaise Zabini sat amidst stacks and stacks of new books, his hand moving fast across the inside covers of the books placed in front of him. Scorpius could barely make out the sign behind him, and then wished he hadn't tried.

_Slytherins in the Battle of Hogwarts: Stories from the Dungeons_

Scorpius wrinkled his nose and backed away, wondering if Draco knew about his old friend's new writing career.

He pushed his way through the crowd toward the towering shelves of books, muttering _excuse me_ and _pardon me_ every time he bumped into someone, keeping his head down and his eyes averted. Just because he knew people would be giving him strange looks didn't mean he needed to see it.

 _It's easier with Albus here,_ Scorpius thought for the tenth time that day. _It doesn't change anything, but it's so much easier…_

"Excuse me!"

He waved at a young, harried looking witch levitating a stack of books taller than she was towards the back room. Reluctance flashed across her eyes and Scorpius froze, keeping his distance.

"I'm sorry to bother you. Truly. Could you possibly point me toward Gail Neiman's new book? I'm not sure where it would be."

"It's down there," she said, pointing with her free hand. Scorpius spotted an untouched-looking tower of books with a small sign indicating the author's name.

"Oh, thank you –"

Scorpius didn't get to finish thanking her before two small sandy-haired children came racing around the corner. The older of the two was clutching a toy Hippogriff that struggled against his grasp, beating its wings against the boy's hand, while the other – who appeared to be a younger brother – chased him and leaped at his raised hand.

"Give it back!"

The elder child wasn't given a chance to return the Hippogriff – not that his impish smile indicated he would have anyway – before he crashed into the witch. She'd barely had a moment to register the children's presence before the elder of the boys collided with her.

Scorpius reacted without hesitation as she lost concentration, her wand slipping from her grasp. Her legs came out from under her and she fell backward into one of the precarious shelves that gave Flourish and Blotts its quirky appearance but failed to consider safety.

The younger of the boys screamed as a handful of the books the witch had been levitating fell towards him. Scorpius jolted, seeing it all in slow motion as the witch hit the ground on her side with a shout, knocking the elder boy down with her. With great effort and his hands stretched toward the boys and the falling bookcase, he thought of every spell he could – _wingardium levioisa – arresto momentum –_ feeling the magic pulling from his fingertips and being ripped from his core –

The falling books hung precariously in the air over their heads. Several books fell from the case as it teetered at a dangerous angle, threatening to dump the rest of the volumes onto the ground. Wincing with the effort – righting such a massive bookcase wasn't easy when he was out of practice – Scorpius curled his hand, summoning the case upright and back onto its bottom.

"Step back, okay?" he said to the younger boy through gritted teeth. The child seemed all too happy to oblige and step away from Scorpius, scrambling backward and away. Scorpius released the books with a mighty exhale, his breath fast and strained. It had been ages since he'd even tapped into that kind of energy for wandless magic – and for good reason.

He had to hurry to pull a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his robes to stop the blood that had now reached his chin. This was exactly why he never did more than levitate and summon objects light enough to carry or use small charms. It wasn't worth the consequences.

Scorpius was just about to ask the witch if she was okay when he found himself momentarily blinded by a flash bulb. He blinked and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, trying to clear his vision. Once the floating neon spots cleared, he saw a wizard with a camera and a _Daily Prophet_ badge hanging around his neck. His notepad levitated in the air at his shoulder, a bright green quill hanging over it, ready to take notes.

 _Bloody hell_ , Scorpius thought with a groan as a small crowd gathered behind him. He felt the handkerchief becoming moist and he was instantly glad he'd charmed it to be extraordinarily absorbent.

"Marnie! Are you okay?"

Another Flourish and Blotts employee pushed through the gathering crowd and helped his coworker to her feet, dusting her off and inspecting her.

"Did the Malfoy boy attack you?"

Scorpius wasn't sure which he was more indignant toward – the notion that he'd attack anyone or being referred to as a child.

"No," the witch said, but it was too late. Whispers of "attack" and "Malfoy" and "Voldemort" rose from the group of bookstore patrons, and Scorpius saw the reporter's quill writing furiously of its own accord on the notepad.

Scorpius sighed and looked at the two children. They were dusting each other off and crying when their parents arrived, frantically scooping them up and glaring at Scorpius in the process as they ushered them away, asking what happened – _did that man hurt you?_ With his face undoubtedly covered in blood, he was sure he looked terrifying but tried to give a polite smile and wave anyway when he locked eyes with the father.

It didn't help. Scorpius sighed and struggled to his feet, shaky and unsteady but refusing to grasp the nearby shelves on the way up. With all of these people staring, he didn't want to look weaker than he already was.

"A-are you okay?" Scorpius asked the shop attendant. The _Daily Prophet_ reporter, who Scorpius couldn't name but recognized as some distant acquaintance's son, had begun to approach her, already asking questions with his quill and notepad hovering nearby. He stepped back as Scorpius got nearer, and the attendant – Marnie – looked up at him. She, at least, appeared grateful.

"Thank you," she said quickly. "Thank you – I'm trying to tell him that you helped, that –"

"It's no use," Scorpius said, waving his free hand, still clutching his handkerchief to his nose. "They'll say what they want."

"Did you break your nose?" she asked quickly. "I can heal it –"

"No," Scorpius interrupted. He could feel the weight of at least twenty people's eyes on him, observing and waiting for a wrong move. Several witches and wizards had their wands in their hands, lowered, but gripped tightly and ready just in case.

"I'm fine. I best get out of here."

Marnie nodded, upset that she couldn't do more, but Scorpius needed to escape. He weighed his options and elected to head toward the back of the store, away from the others, sweeping through the forest of shelves until he got to the back door. The alley behind the shop was damp and smelled awful, but it was thankfully clear of people – his only requirement for a clean escape.

He made his way toward the Leaky Cauldron where he could Floo home. The bleeding had slowed but his heart hadn't stopped pounding and no amount of measured, slow breathing could help.

He looked over his shoulder at the back of Flourish and Blotts wistfully and hummed in lament.

He hadn't gotten his book.

* * *

_May 18_

 

_Albus,_

_I stopped by work to see James earlier today since that was the only place I knew I could catch him. He said that he's fine and he looked okay, but didn't seem to want to talk about Ainsley. He just told me that she decided and that was it. I made him have lunch with me, but he didn't tell me what happened. He didn't say much of anything. I did most of the talking. I'm sure you're shocked._

_I'll let you know if I learn anything else_

 

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

 

_May 21_

 

_Scorpius,_

_One of the witches here gets the Prophet. It's usually a few days late._

_I saw the article about the incident at the bookstore. Are you okay? What happened? Write back soon, please. I'm worried._

_I'm counting the days until I come home._

 

_Love you,_

_Albus_

* * *

"We're obviously going to have a 'welcome home' party," Scorpius said. Harry, who was busy cooking dinner, smiled over his shoulder at him. "Right?"

Draco nodded in agreement, though that wasn't unexpected. Draco Malfoy had never passed up an opportunity to plan a party. They were at the Potters' home for dinner on a lazy Sunday evening, and it was evident everyone was missing Albus, though Scorpius was confident he'd missed him the most today. Not only had a group of children nearly fled from him when he walked through the public section of the archive, but he'd also been tracked down for comments from a _Daily Prophet_ reporter on the events at the bookstore.

"Of course," Harry said to Scorpius. He turned the hamburgers over in the pan, greeting Ginny with a smile as she walked in the room. In return, she pushed his glasses back into place.

"Thanks, love," he said. Ginny fell into the seat next to Scorpius, her somewhat graying red hair pulled into a messy knot atop her head. He hoped that someday he and Albus would be so comfortable.

"So how is everything, future son-in-law?" Ginny asked. Scorpius smiled at the notion.

"Good," he told her. "Things at work are better. Dad's trying to get me to start planning the wedding."

"That's why I wanted to have dinner here tonight," Draco huffed. "So we can start planning. You can't waste time on these things."

"I don't see what there is to plan," Scorpius admitted. "Don't get me wrong – I understand why you and mum wanted a big wedding. It was right for you guys, but Albus and I just want something small, I think."

Draco gave Scorpius such a hard stare that all the words he'd meant to say were lost immediately and Scorpius knew he wouldn't be escaping Draco's planning. He might as well start picking out flowers and ice sculptures.

Scorpius was grateful that all talk of his pending wedding was cut off by James stumbling into the kitchen, dusting ash from the shoulders of his Gringotts robes.

"Hi, James!" Scorpius said brightly. James forced a small smile in his direction before greeting both his parents with quick kisses to their cheeks. It wasn't the warm welcome he usually got from Lily, but it was better than nothing.

"Hi, Scorpius," James said after a moment. He nodded at Draco in greeting and sat down beside the Malfoys.

"How are things at Gringotts?" Draco asked after a beat. With wedding ideas and images of Albus in his dress robes buzzing in his head, Scorpius had entirely forgotten how awkward it must be for James to see them after spending so much time at the Manor with Ainsley. As James and Draco exchanged banter, he quickly made a mental note not to mention her – not to mention her _at all_ –

"How is Ainsley?"

Scorpius jumped.

"What?"

"How is she?" James asked again, pointedly avoiding eye contact with both Scorpius and Draco as Harry handed him a fresh glass of water. James gulped it down quickly while Scorpius deliberated his answer, waiting until James wiped stray water droplets from the considerable stubble around his mouth. Scorpius glanced at Draco who shrugged.

"Er, she's fine," Scorpius said. "She's doing well. Work is good. She's getting to work with some of the children now – helping to place them in homes –"

"That's good," James said quickly, cutting him off. He looked up quickly and apologized. "Sorry. I just wanted to know if she was okay or not. I didn't mean… well, I didn't mean to be rude."

Scorpius decided not to mention that James had also been quite bristly when he'd visited Gringotts a few days before check on him.

"James," Ginny crooned, placing a bowl of salad on the table between them. Scorpius spotted Harry watching her closely as he continued monitoring the hamburgers' progress. Ginny and Harry exchanged knowing glances before Ginny placed a hand on James' shoulder to get his attention.

"James, do you want to talk about what happened?"

James didn't say anything and only stared pointedly at the salad tongs. It made Scorpius uncomfortable – the way he stared down the bowl with such intensity. He wondered if the glass would shatter, sending lettuce and radishes across the room.

 _No, that's just something that happens to you,_ Scorpius reminded himself.

"There's nothing to tell," James said, the same way he'd said it to Scorpius in the Gringotts hall. Ginny slid into the chair next to her son and smoothed his hair down.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked. Scorpius looked at him in surprise. Draco and James rarely exchanged words beyond small talk, but his father sounded genuinely concerned as he folded his hands on the table, watching James closely. "Ainsley hasn't wanted to talk about anything much, and I've honestly been worried about both of you."

"There's no reason to be worried about me," James said, standing up and moving over to where Harry continued toiling in the kitchen. James nudged his father out of the way and took over with the cooking. Harry shrugged, exchanging a confused glance with Ginny.

"She just said she wanted to move on," James clarified, turning the hamburgers again and busying himself with sorting out slices of cheese. "Said I shouldn't keep wasting my time on her."

Draco went rigid beside Scorpius, his back suddenly straight and his palms flat on the table.

"Anyway, it's not a big deal. If she was unhappy –"

"What did you just say?" Draco asked, his tone clipped and short, earning a confused and obviously offended look from both Ginny and Harry.

"Dad?" Scorpius muttered.

"What?" James asked, half turning to look at them. "That it's not a big deal?"

"No, before that," Draco said quickly. James paused, thinking.

"That she said I shouldn't waste my time on her? It didn't make much sense to me either –"

James was cut off by the scraping of Draco's seat as he stood abruptly, his jaw tight, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. Scorpius looked up at him, baffled.

"I'm sorry," Draco said quickly, apologizing to Harry and Ginny as he pulled his cloak from the nearby rack. He righted his chair with a sharp flick of his wand. "I have to go."

"Dad? What's wrong?" Scorpius asked. When Draco didn't answer immediately, Scorpius grabbed his arm, his grip firm enough to cause pain – enough to stop Draco in his tracks.

"You're scaring me. What's wrong?"

Draco looked at Scorpius', his eyes wild and fearful – something Scorpius hadn't seen for a very long time, and it made him feel cold. Draco opened his mouth to answer but thought better of it, his eyes flickering to the Potters.

"Come with me, Scorpius," Draco said, peeling Scorpius' hand from his arm.

"Draco, what –" Ginny started, but Draco shook his head quickly.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Potters," Draco said quickly, grabbing his son's hand and pulling him towards the fireplace.

* * *

Draco swept through the sitting room and into the Manor, checking his watch.

"Dad, what's going on?" Scorpius asked, raising his voice.

"If we weren't here, she'd likely take her tea in the library, right?" Draco asked. He didn't wait for an answer and started up the grand staircase, the heels of his shoes clicking with each quick step.

"Dad?"              

Scorpius followed him tripping and stumbling until he caught up.

"I knew she was acting strange," Draco said. "What James said – that she said something about wasting his time – that's something your mother said when we were dating."

Scorpius stopped on the stairs, frozen until Draco paused at the top and looked down at him.

"Dad, are you saying she's…"

Scorpius couldn't finish the sentence. Instead of images of Albus and wedding things, he suddenly saw the papers scattered across his desk – notes pulled from the research and translations Jin had left behind and the work of several other potions and alchemy historians. It was the research he'd hoped he'd never use but had growing suspicions he'd need for himself, gathered in free moments and long nights at the archive while Albus was away.

Scorpius had suspected for several months that his mother's curse had been passed down to him despite his aunt's assertion that his power and talent were proof that the curse had faded into memory. He remembered from his early childhood how his mother bruised easily – how Draco protected her from anything sharp that could cut her, and how he'd always carried a vial of blood replenishing potion in his pocket just in case.

When the bruising had started, he'd started gathering information to assuage his own fears. Scorpius had learned young that doing his homework was the fastest way to put his mind at ease, and this was no different – beginning to gather the information he might need to seek out the counter curse Jin had mentioned in passing had helped put his mind at rest when he'd started to suspect.

But if he'd known he'd be needing it for Ainsley – if he'd had even the slightest inclination – he wouldn't have slept or eaten until he had a plan.

Draco's face had fallen into a helpless expression – his frown profound and shaky – his blonde eyebrows knit together in fear and exhaustion and anger.

"Dad," Scorpius said again, desperate. His heart beat faster as the reality settled in and he realized it wasn't just himself at risk. "Dad, please."

Draco said nothing and Scorpius climbed the last few stairs to join him.

"I could be wrong," Draco muttered. "I hope I'm wrong. It could be nothing – just something she said."

"It's not," Scorpius said, suddenly sure, anger clipping his tone. He swept past Draco towards the library, his face suddenly feeling hot and his hands itchy and uncomfortable.

It was one thing for her to have neglected to tell him about breaking up with James. It was something else entirely for her to have hidden this, Scorpius thought, acutely aware of his own hypocrisy.

He pulled off his robes as he strode into the library, tossing them atop the piano as he strode in to find Ainsley exactly where Draco said she'd be – at the library table he'd once used to play with his toy Hogwarts Express, and then for studying.

Ainsley looked up at them, her eyes flickering from Draco to Scorpius for a moment before she set down her tea, calmly slipping her bookmark between the pages of Zabini's new book.

"Gentlemen," Ainsley said, her voice slow and calculated. "What seems to be the trouble?"

All Scorpius' questions got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth as he stared at her – small, delicate Ainsley who looked so much like his mother, who had cast herself directly into harm's way for him years ago. Ainsley, who never failed to ask how his day was, and who was the closest thing to a sibling he'd ever have from his mother's side of the family.

Fortunately, Draco often maintained his composure when Scorpius did not.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" Draco asked, approaching her. He pulled an empty chair around the table and sat close beside her. Ainsley's brown eyes flickered from Draco to Scorpius, and she watched him carefully for a moment as he tugged at his sleeves and then shoved his hands in his pockets to still them.

Ainsley swallowed hard and tucked her bangs behind her ear before looking back to Draco.

"If Scorpius is staring at me like that then I'm fairly certain you don't have to ask me anything," she said.

Draco placed his hands on her arm, still stretched across the table towards her tea. Ainsley's lower lip began to quiver at the touch.

"Do you have the Greengrass curse?" Draco asked. "Is that why you broke up with James? I need you to tell me."

The look Ainsley gave Draco was so open and vulnerable that, when she nodded, Scorpius was certain he could hear his father's heart break from across the room. His shoulders slumped, and he hung his head, and the sight was so horrifying to Scorpius that he couldn't look away.

"How long have you known?" Scorpius asked.

The hesitation in Ainsley's answer was perhaps worse than her response.

"It was a bit after James and I started dating that it started – Quidditch bruises that didn't heal quickly were my first clue," she said, her voice so soft that Scorpius was forced to step towards the table to hear her. The sound of his shoes on the wooden floor in the stillness seemed overly loud – too annoying – and he hated them for breaking the quiet.

"I wasn't certain until a few months ago when I was playing with Zar and he scratched my arm – not bad at all – but it kept bleeding for two days. That was when I knew for certain."

Draco swore under his breath.

"There are potions you should be taking," Draco said. "Things that can slow the effects. You can have a near-normal life for years if you start early."

"I've been taking them," Ainsley assured them. "Enough to help, but the minimum. Not enough to make me tired all the time like Aunt Astoria – not yet."

Draco cringed at the sound of his late wife's name.

Scorpius pictured his mother in her last year, struggling to stay awake in the early evening, worn down by the curse eating at her and the potions keeping her alive. It was hard to reconcile that woman with the one he remembered from his early childhood – vivacious and warm – and even more difficult to reconcile her ailment with Ainsley, who had yet to lose the color in her face or the light from her eyes.

"I made a deal with myself. I'd take the potions and live a normal life – and they stopped most of it. I felt pretty good. I healed decently. But the day I got a papercut that didn't close up for twelve hours I knew I…" Ainsley's voice faltered and she looked down at Draco's hands on her arm.

"I couldn't do that to James," she said. She started to cry softly and Scorpius braced his arms on the table, palms flat against the surface, and hung his head. "I remember Aunt Astoria and she loved you both so much and I know I didn't talk to you then, but I remember seeing you on Platform 9 ¾ right after she passed – both of you, and you looked so sad and beaten. I couldn't do that to him. I know I can't spare you – you're my only family and I couldn't bear to run away, but I could spare him. By the time James finds out, he'll have moved on. I was weak to have held onto him so long. It wasn't fair."

She choked back a sob.

"Don't you think that's his choice to make?" Draco asked. Scorpius didn't look up, but he could see the way Draco stroked her forearm with his thumb – comforting without smothering.

"I didn't want to give him a chance," Ainsley said. "A chance to be noble. You know how those Potter boys are."

Scorpius let out a broken laugh despite himself because he _did_ know how those Potter boys were, which was precisely why he'd decided not to tell Albus until he came home permanently. Hopefully by then he'd have some kind of plan.

"But we can get you the best care available," Draco said. "And Dania is an excellent healer. She'll be here to take care of you."

"I know," Ainsley sobbed, finally breaking. For the second time that night, Scorpius heard the aggressive sound of Draco scraping a chair across the floor as he moved closer to her. Ainsley's voice became muffled, and he knew she'd buried her face in Draco's shoulder. "But I'd rather do the minimum and keep my strength. I love my work with the children – helping them find homes and making sure they're safe and loved – and I don't want to give that up. I know it will cost me several years, but I don't want to take what Aunt Astoria took – not if the end result is the same. I know there's nothing that can be done."

Scorpius stared down at the mahogany under his palms and ran a finger along a faint scratch he'd left there as a child playing Exploding Snap with his mother.

"What if there was?"

Scorpius looked up at her. Ainsley was nestled against her uncle, looking up at him as Draco stroked her hair, his chin resting atop her head and his arms around her lithe shoulders. His jaw was set in a hard line and Scorpius knew he was barely keeping it together.

"What are you talking about?" Ainsley asked.

Scorpius swallowed hard and straightened himself, compulsively tugging his waistcoat straight and fidgeting with his cuffs as he began to explain.

"Do you remember while ago, back when I was working with Jin – the visiting Japanese scholar?"

"I remember," Ainsley confirmed.

"He found some research on breaking blood curses. At the time I asked him not to tell me anything. I didn't want to know if there was something that could have saved mum."

Draco turned slowly but didn't meet his eyes, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he could do it – confess that he was afflicted too and that he'd been gathering as much information as he could before seeking more concrete answers – but Scorpius couldn't do it for all the same reasons he hadn't yet confessed to Albus. Telling Draco now wouldn't change anything he had to do, but it would hinder him if Draco insisted on weekly checkups and round after round of potions with exhausting side effects, and so he held his tongue despite aching for some comfort himself.

He'd definitely missed Albus the most today.

"I don't know much about what he found, but if there might be a way to rid you of this, then we have to explore every option."

"What do you need from me?" Draco asked, his voice firm. "What can I do? Where do I need to go?"

Scorpius held up his hand to silence his father before he began offering every knut in the Malfoy vault, the fixtures from the walls and the silver in the cabinets to finance a cure.

"I'll need to sift through what we have carefully," Scorpius said. "Everything I can find. Once I have a better idea of what to ask, I'll contact every expert Jin knows, but it might take me a few weeks to get there, and even then I don't know how long it will take to find something viable.

That's why I'm going to make you a deal," he said, looking at Ainsley.

"A deal?" she said, skeptical.

"Two conditions. Take the potions and everything you can – side effects or not."

Ainsley pondered his offer for a moment, then nodded.

"Fine. What else?"

"Tell James everything you just told us."

Ainsley sat up straight, scowling at him. Scorpius hadn't even known she could scowl.

"I've already hurt him," she said. "There's no sense in –"

"I just saw him," Scorpius interrupted, his harsh tone surprising even himself. "He wanted to know how you were. He wanted to know if you're okay. And you're right; I do know how those Potters are – I daresay better than anyone. I know that neither Albus nor James nor Lily have ever backed down from a challenge, and I know that if it were me -"

Scorpius stumbled over his words, emotion churning uncomfortably in his chest as he pictured Albus' face in the sunlight, grinning as he said "yes" after Scorpius had proposed.

"I know that if it were me, Albus wouldn't leave. It wouldn't change anything. So you need to talk to James. You need to tell him and you need to let him decide for himself."

"He wants children," Ainsley protested. "And I won't pass this on. I refuse."

"Don't give up yet," Scorpius countered. "We're not out of options."

Finally, Ainsley agreed. She nodded and leaned in to rest her head against Draco's shoulder, looking nearly as exhausted as Scorpius felt. Not for the first time, he wished he were a child again so he could crawl onto his father's lap and stay there until Draco rocked him to sleep.

"I'll tell him," she said, closing her eyes. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

Draco looked up at Scorpius, meeting his eyes for the first time. Scorpius wasn't surprised to see Draco's eyes had reddened, nor was he taken aback by the broken expression on his face, and he felt the sudden need to explain himself.

"It wouldn't have changed anything," Scorpius said. "When I found out – I couldn't bring her back and I didn't know that we'd be needing to explore this and so I didn't tell you. I know how much you searched for anything that would help."

"You don't have to justify it," Draco said, his voice so quiet that Scorpius couldn't tell if he was angry or sad or simply drained. "But you do have to tell me what I can do to help."

"And I will," Scorpius said, knowing it was a lie. "As soon as I know what to ask for."

"We have time," Draco assured him, looking down to Ainsley. "If it's paper cuts and bruises then you're in the beginning stages. It's not until the wounds don't heal without considerable magic and you get uncontrollable nosebleeds that it's time to worry."

"No, I'm not there yet," Ainsley confirmed, her eyes shut tight. Draco kissed the top of her head again, and slowly disentangled himself from his niece.

"I'm going to go find Dania and see what we need to do tomorrow," Draco said as he stood, straightening his clothes with unshakable composure. He seemed several inches shorter than when they left the Potters' home, beaten down by the last twenty minutes. He reached down to pat the top of Ainsley's head again and offered his handkerchief before stepping back and looking at Scorpius.

"You could have told me," Draco said, stepping towards his son. "That must have been an awful burden to bear."

Scorpius gave only a nod. To tell him that it _was_ a terrible burden would result in a confession-filled breakdown he wasn't equipped to handle.

Draco gave Scorpius' shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving the library in search of his wife.

Silence settled over Ainsley and Scorpius, broken only by her shuffling as she carefully wiped her tears away, leaving her face splotchy and raw.

"How long have you known?"

"I didn't even suspect," Scorpius said. "I should have and I'm sorry."

"No," Ainsley said, looking up at him with a steely expression. "How long have you known you have it too?"

A chill ran from Scorpius' shoulders to his toes and suddenly the blue of the library was less welcoming. It felt like ice.

"What do you mean?"

"When Albus left you had a hickey on your collarbone," Ainsley said. "I don't even know why I saw it, but it was still there when I saw you last week and that's a long time, so I'm assuming you're skipping the potions that I'm taking to avoid the side effects for some reason."

Scorpius bit the inside of his mouth, shuffling his feet.

"Don't tell dad. Or Albus."

"Your secret's safe with me," Ainsley said. "Though I do wish you'd told me there might be a counter curse. I've been terrified."

Scorpius felt guilty immediately. If he'd even suspected she had to worry about this… he'd gotten used to handling his own fear, but subjecting someone else to it was something he wasn't willing to do.

"I don't know for sure that there is," Scorpius said. "Blood magic is old magic and it was taboo here before good records were even kept. I guess that whoever cursed our ancestor was either foreign or well-traveled. I suppose… well, I suppose I've been in denial a bit – just doing my homework, pretending that was enough."

"How far along is it for you?" Ainsley asked, turning Draco's handkerchief over in her hands.

"Far enough," Scorpius said, firm enough to stop any further questions. Ainsley understood. "Does using magic make it worse for you?"

Ainsley shrugged and shook her head. "Not that I've noticed. Does it for you?"

"A bit," Scorpius lied.

"I didn't know until last week for sure that you had it," Ainsley said with a small, forced smile. "I was going to talk to you about it next week – ask you to meet me for dinner so we could talk privately."

"I understand," Scorpius said. "But we're still young. We've got years at worst."

"If I have to tell James, then you have to tell Albus when he gets home," Ainsley bargained. "And then you have to tell Draco."

Scorpius sighed and rubbed his face.

"Promise me," Ainsley insisted. "As soon as he gets back. That very day."

"I know. I was already planning on it," Scorpius confessed. "Keeping anything from him is so awful, I just… I was just trying to put off dad finding out as long as possible – at least until I had some answers. Upsetting them so far in advance seemed senseless."

"Do you have some answers?"

Scorpius cocked his head to one side.

"Do you have some answers? Do you think there's…" Ainsley faltered again, her fingers playing nervously over her bracelet. Scorpius spotted the broomstick charm he'd gotten her for her last birthday. "Do you think there's a counter curse?"

"I know that there are counter curses for some blood curses," Scorpius admitted. "I am not sure if there will be one appropriate for ours, and I don't know if the cure will be worse than the malady. Some of them are."

"What do you mean?"

"Some counter curses kill the host, but free the bloodline," Scorpius said. "That would be pointless for us unless you decide to have children because I clearly am not."

"Not if I'm risking passing this along," Ainsley said. "I decided that a long time ago, before I even knew."

"I never had to consider it," Scorpius said. "By the time I could even fathom the idea of children, I was already with Albus and knew he was it for me."

"You proposed to him," Ainsley realized. "You did the exact opposite of what I did."

"Albus knows me too well," Scorpius said with a sad smile. "And I’m a terrible liar when it comes to him. If I'd tried to leave him, he'd know something was wrong, and if I told him, he would have dragged me directly to Saint Mungo's and then directly to the Ministry for a marriage license just to make a point."

She nodded, running her finger around the delicate rim of her teacup.

"I almost told him," Scorpius confessed, hoping it would make him feel lighter. "I nearly did the night he got home, but we had one day and he was going to have to leave again and there's nothing he could have done, so I decided to wait. And then the next morning he was just lying there asleep and he was just so peaceful and perfect. All I could think was 'counter curse or not; this is how I want to wake up every day for the rest of my life.' I suppose it got the better of me."

"You're always so soppy when it comes to Albus," Ainsley teased.

Scorpius laughed, wiping under his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. "I suppose I am."

Ainsley opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, tapping her fingers on the table.

"James is it for me, too," she said after a beat.

"Those Potter boys are something else," Scorpius chuckled. A genuine smile broke across Ainsley's face, and it was enough to lighten his heart.

"Yeah, they are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep lying to you when I say that updates will be faster, but I swear I don't mean to!
> 
> This time I was much busier before and after I was on vacation, but I think you'll forgive me. I was in London, seeing Cursed Child.
> 
> Questions? Comments? Anger? [You know where I am.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	12. Departure

It wasn't that Scorpius was a bad liar – he was a good liar who was terrible at lying to the people he cared about when it came to big, life-changing things, which was why he'd taken to avoiding his father at all costs lest he slip and note his condition before he was ready. Draco was already beside himself with worry over Ainsley and dealing with a new baby while Dania returned to work – concern for Scorpius would likely shave years off his life if it didn't kill him outright.

No, Scorpius knew he had to continue keeping secrets, which was one of the most painful things he'd ever experienced and he didn't trust himself against his father's brand of caring interrogation. He'd never been a good liar unless he didn't have much attachment to the person he was lying to.

Case and point: He'd had no problem brushing off his colleagues' suspicion at his extraordinary hours, as he was most often at the archive before everyone else and stayed long after most of the staff had gone home for the evening.

"Just wanted to get an early start," he'd say, bouncing with convincing enthusiasm and brandishing his third cup of coffee as if it were his first.

"I just want to finish up this one thing and put these books back in their proper places," he'd say when someone would question the late hour. He never knew if they were genuinely curious or just apprehensive because he was a Malfoy. "It'll drive me mad all night if I don't. Have a lovely dinner!"

That was exactly what he'd said to Ware, the archive basement's keeper, when he'd gave Scorpius a strange look before heading to the exit, grumbling about the 'Malfoy boy's quirkiness' for the millionth time.

_At least I don't have to see him all day, every day anymore,_ Scorpius thought as Ware closed the door to the stairwell behind himself. It was well past seven o'clock in the evening, and Scorpius had been tied up all day in helping Abbot work on his next lecture on sixteenth-century artefacts – something Scorpius would have normally found thrilling if he hadn't been preoccupied with searching through the notes Jin had left behind and combing book after book on old potions and counter curses, looking for something – _anything_ – that might give him a lead.

Magical theory. Curses and counter curses. The evils of blood magic. Fundamentals of potions from around the world. He was systematically combing them all according to a schedule he'd made weeks ago, just before Albus' last visit.

_He'll be home soon_ , Scorpius thought with a smile, aware for the hundredth time that day of the slim ring on his finger. _By then I'll have some idea…_

He sighed absently and held out his hand, ready to conjure his usual sphere of light to accompany him throughout the evening. Without considering the consequences, Scorpius created the ball with just a thought and immediately regretted it as he felt the energy leave his fingertips. What used to feel like a gentle tug had turned into a ripping – something uncomfortable and unnatural, and he kicked himself for the third time that day.

_Old habits,_ Scorpius thought. He drew his wand from his pocket and tucked it behind his ear to remind himself to use it instead.

Scorpius tossed down his messenger bag and tapped the edge of his travel mug with his wand to heat his tea, trusting caffeine and the writings of Adalbert Waffling to carry him through the evening.

* * *

James leaned back against the wall of the Malfoy sitting room, his eyes closed and burning. He'd refused Ainsley's request for him to sit next to her on the sofa and had refused to sit in the nearby armchair and was now thoroughly regretting his decisions as his knees began to feel weak.

"James?" Ainsley said uncertainly. He didn't need to open his eyes to know she was sitting patiently with her hands folded in her lap, looking up at him with the utmost concern after spending twenty minutes stammering and explaining why she'd broken up with him. "Are you okay?"

"It's a lot to take in," James admitted, nervously twisting a stray galleon between his fingers in his pocket.

Was he relieved to find out that Ainsley hadn't left him because she was tired of him? Was he offended that she hadn't told him she was ill? Was he terrified _because_ she was ill?

James suspected the tightness in his chest was because of all these things and there wasn't anything he could do.

"I understand if you're angry. Of course you are," Ainsley said, her voice quiet and soft. James opened his eyes and stared at her, looking at her for more than a second for the first time since arriving. She was twisting the hem of her pale blue cardigan between her fingers nervously, watching her hands work as her hair fell over her shoulders and into her face.

"I'd be angry too," she continued. "And I understand if you can't forgive me. I don't expect you to. I just needed to be honest with you."

"You were very convincing," James admitted. "I've spent the last few weeks really thinking you wanted nothing more to do with me."

"Merlin, no," Ainsley said quickly. "I never wanted to… James, you know I love you. You must know that. I'm _scared_ , and I just wanted to spare you… I'm terrified."

"That's my decision to make. Unless you genuinely no longer want to be with me, it's my choice if I want to leave. You gave me an out. It's my choice to take it or not."

Ainsley said nothing for a moment, looking up at him with her lips pressed together into a hard line. James found it difficult to meet her eyes, but he held her gaze anyway, even though it made the pain in his chest even more acute. Mixed in with all the confusion was a sudden surge of affection and he had to fight the urge to push her hair back from her face and kiss her until the color had come back to her cheeks and she was well again.

James had always tried to protect her, and she'd done something unthinkable to try and protect him. Forgiving her would be far easier than she thought.

"That's exactly what Draco said," she admitted. "He told me you repeated what I'd told you and…" She sighed and looked down at her hands again. "James, I've missed you and I'm so sorry."

James considered his options. He could thank her for her honesty and make a quiet exit – she'd hurt him and no one could blame him for wanting to leave, albeit on better terms.

He could leave and say that he needed to think. He could ask her for day or so to consider what she'd said before they talked again and he could really work out how he felt.

_But who am I kidding?_ James asked himself, the corners of his mouth twitching into a reluctant smile. _I'll wind up right back here_.

James moved over to where Ainsley sat and pointed at the space beside her.

"Can I sit?"

She nodded quickly, moving to give him more room that he didn't necessarily want. He sank into the cushions, relieved. With all she'd laid on him, it was hard to remember how long a day he'd had.

"Ainsley, I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to." He watched her shoulders drop as she wrapped her cardigan tighter around her middle, her lower lip quivering. "I love you. Even though you said some fairly awful things to me."

James broke into a watery laugh despite himself. He'd played her words over and over in his head, trying to make sense of them – an effort he now knew was pointless.

"I know. But I didn't want to hurt you. I couldn't watch you suffer the way Draco and Scorpius did."

"Astoria had years, didn't she?" James asked, but as the reality settled in, the ache in his chest intensified. She hadn't said it in so many words, but James knew what was happening.

Ainsley was dying the same slow death her aunt had.

"She was about thirty-five when she passed," Ainsley clarified. "But she was very lucky. Astoria might have been frail physically, but she had what Scorpius calls a 'mighty spirit.'"

"So do you."

James reached out and took her hand, gently prying her fingers from around the edge of her sleeve and lacing them with his own. Ainsley stared at their hands for a moment before looking up at him, her honey-colored eyes warm, loving, and sad all at the same time.

"You're going to live to be a hundred and fifty. I'll be lucky if I see thirty."

James swallowed hard and his Gringotts uniform, which was normally rather comfortable, suddenly felt very confining. The next few years of his life played across his mind quickly, and he saw two distinct paths.

In one, he left this room still friends with Ainsley. He walked away and in a year or so he married a faceless witch and they had three beautiful children by the time he reached his mid-thirties. He'd be happy, living in the country or by the sea, drinking tea with his wife and his parents on Sunday afternoons.

In the other, he stayed. He spent each free moment with Ainsley, laughing and talking with his best friend. He danced with her at his brother's wedding, and he enjoyed the good days with her until the bad days overtook them, and he stayed at her side until the end.

It was the easiest choice to make.

"Well," James said thickly. "I guess that means we better make the next ten years count, right?"

Within a second, Ainsley was on top of him, her arms around his shoulders and her face buried in his neck and the warmth was so familiar that James couldn't help basking in it, pulling her closer until she was in his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs and her chest pressed against his.

"I'm so sorry," she said again, and James shivered as he felt her breath against his neck.

"It's okay," he assured her, his hand wound into her hair. "I know why you did it. But maybe I don't want to be spared."

Ainsley sat back on his knees and looked down at him, her face splotchy and red. James instantly pulled his sleeve down and cleared the tears from her face with his cuff before sliding his hand around to the back of her neck.

"I would rather spend what time I can with you and, someday in the _very_ distant future, mourn you properly than wake up one morning to an owl telling me you're gone and spend the rest of my life wondering what these next few years could have been like."

"Mum always said Gryffindors were hard-headed," Ainsley muttered, smiling. "And I'm pretty sure she got that notion from being at Hogwarts with the most visible Gryffindor of all time – your father."

"Albus might have gotten his hair and eyes, but I got his stubbornness and undeniable charm," James said with a grin. He tapped the rim of her glasses fondly. "Fortunately, I got mum's eyesight."

Ainsley laughed and James felt the knot in his chest untie itself bit by bit.

"Do you feel okay now?" he asked, running his hands up and down her sides.

Ainsley nodded. "Yes. It's not very bad yet. I just have to be careful not to get cut or bruised because it takes so long to heal. And there are specific potions that can slow down the effects of the curse. I started taking them today, so I'm not feeling it yet, but they can be pretty tiring. Dania's going to keep an eye on me so we can get the dosage right."

"You should have been taking them longer," James lamented.

"I don't _want_ to be taking them now," Ainsley countered. "I like my job – I don't want to be exhausted all the time, but Scorpius insisted I take them while he's looking for a counter curse."

James' hands went still on her sides.

"Excuse me?"

"What?"

"Counter curse?"

"Did I forget that part? Oh, bloody hell, that's important," Ainsley sighed, looking down at him. "Sorry. I was just so anxious about seeing you again and telling you everything."

James stared up at her, drumming his fingers impatiently against her side.

"Do you remember when Scorpius was working with that Japanese professor? I guess they'd found a ton of information on old curses and counter curses and some of it _might_ apply. There's a _very slim chance_ –"

"You're telling me there's some hope?"

"I'm trying to avoid being overly optimistic," Ainsley confessed, playing with the buttons of James' shirt to avoid looking at him. "He's not even sure – I guess he's still looking through everything and gathering what might be relevant. I only found out about that part last night and that he -" Ainsley stopped herself short and swallowed. "That he thinks he might be able to find something."

James sighed and took her face in his hands until she met his eyes again.

"Ainsley, love," he began gently. "You have _got_ to learn what information to lead with."

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

A bit of hope – that was something to cling to. He drew her closer and kissed her for the first time in weeks and it felt like coming home after a long assignment away. He kissed her languidly and carefully for several moments until she pulled away, looking happy and calm for the first time since he entered the room. James smiled and ran his hands up and down her sides, enjoying a moment of quiet until something struck him and his hands stilled.

"Wait. Does it hurt when I touch you? I don't want to hurt you."

Ainsley shook her head quickly. "No. Please. I've got a few little bruises but that's just from every-day stuff."

"Can I see?"

Ainsley quirked a lopsided smile at him.

"Trying to get me out of my clothes, Potter?"

"Of course."

She laughed and drew her cardigan down. A few faint blue patches were present on her shoulders, and James ran his fingertips over them with a feather-light touch that made her shudder.

"Don't let this go straight to your ego, but I've really missed this."

James grinned and drew her closer, kissing one of the small marks on her bicep lightly before moving to the one on her shoulder. He was being excruciatingly careful to avoid hurting her – if the redness of her eyes was any indication, the last day hadn't been easy, and James didn't want to make anything more difficult. They'd both been through enough and he only wanted to exist there, in that moment, with Ainsley safely in front of him for as long as he could.

She stifled a yawn against his shoulder.

"It's only nine o'clock," James whined.

"The potions," she reminded him. "I'm sure I'll get used to it. Can't have something halting a curse in your blood without some side effects."

"Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?" he asked. "It's important you stay healthy, especially if there might be some way to break this."

She was quick to shake her head, sitting back again to look at him.

"Don't go," she protested. "Please? I've missed you."

"I know Draco didn't mind when you'd just stay at my place, but I'm not sure how he'd feel if he checked in on you in the morning and found me in your bed."

"Albus used to sleep here all the time."

"Yeah, after Scorpius nearly died –"

James cut himself off at Ainsley's expression.

"I'm pretty sure we can get away with it right now," Ainsley deadpanned.

"But what if I kick you in the middle of the night and hurt you?"

"Don't you dare start treating me like I'm made of glass," she said, raising a threatening finger to his face and tapping it against his nose. James warmed at the gesture and drew her into as firm a hug as he dared.

_How did I survive without this?_ He wondered, marveling at the calming effect Ainsley had on him, even when things were dire – even when he'd been aching for weeks over her words. Gratitude was swiftly replaced by fear.

_How_ will _I survive without this?_

"Let's get you to bed," James whispered against her hair as he carefully stood, supporting her and drawing her up with him so he carried her with her legs wrapped around his waist.

He carried her out into the atrium toward the staircase, not caring if he ran into Draco with his niece wrapped around him. He'd be as soppy as he wanted if it made Ainsley happy and comfortable.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

Ainsley paused, her arms wrapped tight around him to support her weight.

"I'm scared."

He felt her words in the pit of his stomach. As James had aged, he found a new instinct to protect those he loved – one that grew with each passing year. Ginny teased that it was the idea of parenthood beginning to nag at him, but he didn't complain – especially not when it came to Ainsley or Lily (it would have extended to Albus, James knew, but his younger brother's prickliness seemed to diminish the effect somewhat).

But a threat that came from within wasn't something he could protect her from, and James was in uncharted territory.

"I know, love," James promised. "I'm going to take care of you, and everything's going to work out. It has to."

* * *

_May 27_

_Scorpius,_

_I've still got a week until I begin the long trip home, but I'm already about halfway packed. Stephen and Martha have been teasing me about being "over eager" to get home, but I don't care. I can't wait to get back to see you and Zar and our families. I've missed you all so much. I know I saw you just a few weeks ago, but coming home has only made me miss you more._

_I love you, and I can't wait to come home and get married._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

Scorpius folded Albus' latest letter and tucked it back into the interior pocket of his robes with a small smile. It was far later than he normally stayed – nearly 11 o'clock – but Ainsley and James had been able to take care of Zar, giving him a few more hours.

He smiled. Ainsley had seemed happy when he'd seen her this morning – glad to have James back.

_What a difference a day can make_.

Three notebooks and a pile of old folios lay in front of him, their important pages marked with brightly colored paper. He knelt in front of the lowest shelf, his trusty hovering light floating nearby, giving off just enough of a glow for him to read. The charm would need refreshing soon, but Scorpius was hoping he'd be gone by the time the light dimmed. He was focused tonight, and that meant _maybe_ some progress and _maybe_ a good night's sleep.

"Scorpius?"

Scorpius yelled, falling backward and grappling wildly for his wand inside his robes.

A familiar voice came from the hall and James stepped into the light. "Calm down! It's just me."

"Merlin's beard!" Scorpius cried, clutching at his chest over his pounding heart. "You could have given me a heart attack."

James looked down at him with faint dark circles under his eyes and at least a day's worth of dark red stubble along his chin. He rubbed his face in exasperation before reaching down to help Scorpius stand.

"Albus would kill me."

He took James' proffered hand and scrambled to his feet, stumbling and freeing himself from the circle of notes, scrolls, and parchment he'd created. Scorpius righted his glasses.

"What are you doing here?" Scorpius asked, shaking some stray dust from his robes. "How did you even get in?"

"Gringotts badge." James tapped the identification card pinned to his jacket.

"That shouldn't have given you access past the library."

"No, but it has the name 'Potter' on it and that usually does the trick." James sighed. "You'll learn that soon enough, I suppose. Unless Albus plans to take your name."

Scorpius regarded James for a moment. "We haven't talked about it. I guess we'll hyphenate – flip a coin on which name goes first."

James nodded and looked around at the towering shelves of books, a bit agape.

"I never realized this place was so big," he confessed. "I've only ever visited the public library portion."

"Most wizards don't know. And not many people come down here. This is where things that never fit or were never cataloged are kept. Well – there isn't much of it that isn't cataloged now."

James looked at one of the shelves and ran his finger over a label that read _1600s – Personal Accounts – Goblin Interactions_.

"This is your handwriting." He looked at a few other labels and then to Scorpius. "Did you do all of this?"

"Most of it," Scorpius confirmed, proud. "That's pretty much what my last year consisted of."

"Gallopin' gargoyles," James muttered. "That's a lot of work. Must've taken you forever."

"Felt like it."

James shook his head as if to clear it and looked back to Scorpius, who folded his arms. He didn't want to ask why James had come – he was going to be his brother-in-law, after all, and Scorpius didn't want to be rude or make James feel unwelcome, but he'd already broken his concentration and Scorpius was so very tired.

"I went with Ainsley to let Zar out. It was 10 o'clock and you weren't home and she was already falling asleep. She said you were here so I thought I'd come see if…" James trailed off uncomfortably and looked back up at the shelf beside him. He was clearly avoiding Scorpius' gaze – Scorpius knew he wasn't _that_ interested in 17 th century Goblin affairs, but he'd forgive James for not making eye contact. He and Ainsley were back together, he was being supportive and she was happy. Scorpius couldn't have asked for much more.

"I wanted to see if you needed help," James finished. "If there was anything I could do."

"You… want to help me?" Scorpius was skeptical and entirely unable to hide it. "James, you barely ever went to the Hogwarts library and believe me, I'd know if you had. I was there all the time."

"The Gryffindor common room is quite conducive to studying," James countered. "Just ask Aunt Hermione. She even taught me how to charm a corner to muffle the noise when I was eleven."

"Clever," Scorpius said.

"What are you even looking for down here?" James knelt down, looking at the parchment strewn across the cold stone floor. "These aren't even in English."

"No, but Professor Eisuke from Mahoutoroko left plenty of notes in English summarizing the items," Scorpius explained, kneeling beside him. James might not have loved History of Magic as much as Scorpius had, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to explain some of the notes and categorization he and Jin had worked on.

"See, I helped Jin write this book – _Anglo-Asian Wizarding Relations: 1500 – Present_ – and we had to go through all of these old scrolls from all over eastern Asia. Most of them are in old Mandarin and Japanese, but some were in Hindi and Mongol. One of the large ones is in Russian and I think three were in Thai," Scorpius explained, moving the parchment around to show James the variety of characters. "He looked for the ones that seemed relevant based on what he knew of the languages he isn't fluent in and sent them out for translation – did you know the muggles can send images around the world in _seconds_? I mean, Albus and Rose had shown me some of the technology –"

James gave Scorpius a droll stare and he stopped talking quickly. He knew most people didn't have high tolerance for his sprawling rants. It was what made Albus so special – he always listened.

Well, he always pretended to listen.

Scorpius twisted his ring around his finger absently.

"Can we get to the part where we're saving Ainsley's life?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Scorpius said quickly. "Anyway, we got the translations back, sifted through them and wrote the book, but some of the scrolls _weren't_ relevant. We have notes on them identifying the topic, but we didn't have them all translated. I mean, look at this."

Scorpius gestured around to the shelves and stacks of content. James nodded in understanding.

"That would be impossible."

"Right. Now, this is where the muggles have the advantage. They can use computers to index everything and search much faster, but since this was all _just_ cataloged last year, all I have to go on are these notes and the general categories. I know Jin found some information on curses and counter curses and blood magic. I'm looking for anything down here where the notes seem relevant and I'm putting them over there."

Scorpius pointed to his old desk where three large stacks of old bound books and parchments sat next to a box of dilapidated scrolls. An old trunk lay open on the floor.

"Merlin's pants," James breathed. "How long have you been doing this? Didn't Ainsley just tell you she was ill earlier this week?"

Scorpius felt the color drain from his face and he swallowed.

"Well, I haven't slept at all, and I did do a lot of the shelving for these," he said, standing and straightening his robes again, fidgeting with his cuffs. "I already knew where some of it was."

"That's impressive," James said. "That's _really_ impressive, Scorpius."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's just…" Scorpius bit his lip, thinking back on the last few years. "I don't think you've ever actually complemented me before. On anything. Except maybe the one time I beat Albus at chess three years ago, but I'm positive he let me win, so…"

James looked at him for a moment longer before walking over to the desk.

"Well, it's impressive," he repeated and reached into the scroll box.

"Oh, no!" Scorpius squeaked. He rushed over and tugged the box from James's reach, pulling it close against his abdomen protectively.

"No, no. You can't touch those without gloves."

Scorpius held up his hands. He was sporting thin, white gloves that had a fine sheen of dust on the fingertips.

"Gloves?"

"They're very old," Scorpius said frantically, picking up one of the scrolls and unraveling it to show James the frayed edges. "Very, _very_ old. And with my luck the one we'd need would be the one that would get damaged."

"Are you okay?" James looked at Scorpius with concern. For a moment, Scorpius was touched until he realized the concern wasn't for him – he was the best hope of helping Ainsley.

"Of course. Why?"

"You seem a bit hysterical. No offense."

"None taken," Scorpius sighed, removing his gloves. He was clearly done for the evening. "I'm just very, very tired."

"What can I do to help, Scorpius?"

Scorpius set the box down on the table next to his gloves and sighed, collapsing into the nearby chair with his head in his hands.

"I don't know," he admitted, vaguely aware of James sitting opposite him. "I've gone through nearly everything – by this weekend I will have combed the entire relevant collection as well as the items upstairs. I had to steal Albus' cloak to get into the restricted section on dark magic last w – yesterday. It was yesterday. Sorry, it all runs togeth–"

"Albus has the cloak?" James cried. "Of course Albus has the cloak. I've only been looking for it for a bloody year!"

"We were wondering how long it would take you to notice it was missing." Scorpius gave him an apologetic smile. "Anyway, I had to use it to get in there and I don't know how long it's going to take for them to realize the books are missing, but I'm surely going to lose my job. I'm just trying to make sure I have everything I need before I do."

James ran his finger over the spine of Scorpius' notebook – the one Albus had sent for his birthday – as if he recognized it. Maybe he did. They were brothers, after all, as Scorpius often had to remind himself. They might be as different as night and day, but James would recognize the things Albus would choose.

"You should get some sleep," James said. "You said you've only got a bit more to go through?"

"Yeah, I think so. I made a schedule."

"Of course you did," James said with a dark chuckle. "Then what?"

"Then I suppose I have to start contacting translators. Figure out if there are any answers here in –" Scorpius lifted the corner of one of the newer parchment folios, examining its notation. "Fifteenth century Mandarin."

"I'll come back tomorrow night." James nodded to himself, confirming his own decision. "I'll help you with your… homework."

"That is what it feels like," Scorpius admitted. "Homework. But I’m good at homework. I _liked_ homework at Hogwarts – my dark-world counterpart didn't apparently, but _I_ did and – oh, you're right. I'm ranting."

Scorpius rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses.

"What time do you stop your normal work and start doing this?"

"About seven o'clock, once everyone's gone."

"Right. I'll meet you at your office then?"

Scorpius gave James directions to his office – which felt like a glorified closet most days – while they carefully stacked the items Scorpius had gathered and laid them in an empty trunk, the stolen restricted books included. James waited as Scorpius closed and locked it.

"Scorpius?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think you're going to find something to save her?"

Scorpius was surprised to find that James' voice sounded very close to Albus' when he was scared and vulnerable, and the astonishment must have shown on his face because James continued.

"She doesn't deserve to die young." The lines between James' brows gave away his distress. For Scorpius, who rarely ever saw James less than mildly perturbed or tired, it was disquieting. "She's so good. Deep down she's just a good person. And I'd do anything to save her – or even just to make the burden easier to bear."

Scorpius looked down at his shoes. It was difficult to look at James when he was saying the same things Albus might say if the roles were switched around with the same underlying panic in his voice.

"I'm doing my best," Scorpius assured him. "For everyone's sake. I think we're just lucky that Jin mentioned it that day. Otherwise…"

"Otherwise we'd just be watching her die."

Scorpius nodded.

"There's got to be something," he said and led James back toward the staircase.

_The last thing I want is to leave Albus a widower_ , Scorpius thought and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

The ring on his finger was thin and light, but it was beginning to feel very heavy.

* * *

"Don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself?"

Albus looked down from his book at his bags packed nearly beside his bed. His clothes were folded neatly with only what he'd need for the remaining six days left stacked on a nearby chair. Only his _Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures_ and the notebook he used to write home lay on his desk.

"A bit excited," Albus admitted with a smile. Stephen grinned at him as he threw his gear vest over the headboard of his bed and sat to take off his boots. "Done for the night?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I've got to check on that baby Snallygaster." Albus slid his bookmark between the pages of _The Alchemist_ and set it aside, groaning as he sat up.

"That leg giving you trouble?"

"Hm? No. It hasn't bothered me for weeks, really," Albus said, getting to his feet and stretching. "Just tired. And sore. I was working with those Wampus Cats. Using occulmency for that long is draining."

Albus shivered at the mere thought of the hypnotic yellow eyes that had followed him around the enclosure while he checked on the status of the pregnant female.

"Indeed, it is," Stephen agreed as he fell atop his unmade bed. Entering the last week of their stay had brought a sense of lethargy for many of Albus' cohort, but after his brief visit home, he'd found himself more energetic than ever. He left Stephen to the quiet of the dorm – with any luck, he and Martha would be sound asleep by the time Albus returned and he could write a few letters without disturbing them.

He lit his wand with a quick "lumos" and stepped out into the night. A few of the other magizoologists were still moving about, securing their charges for the evening and making sure their favorites were well fed and tended to. Albus slipped quietly into the main building where the smaller, injured creatures were kept in cages until they could be released or moved to larger habitats.

Curled in one of the larger cages was an infant Snallygaster – part bird and part reptile with fangs of steel. It was curled around itself, its wide metallic beak hidden beneath one of its scaly wings as if it were asleep. Albus craned around and saw that its eyes were open and wary, and he wasn't surprised. It had been only three days since poachers had killed the Snallygaster's parents for their hides.

"Hey there," Albus greeted. He reached into the bucket beneath the cage and withdrew one of the dead mice kept for food and tossed it into the cage. The Snallygaster unfurled itself slowly to sniff at its snack, but not enough to give Albus a good look at the wound running down its back. Snallygasters had near-impenetrable hides after they'd matured, but this one was both young and had been hit with an especially destructive blow.

Initially, Albus had thought the creature was lucky to have survived with only a curse burn down its spine, but the sadness and fear in its eyes made him question it almost immediately. He didn't know how long a Snallygaster's memory was, but it certainly wasn't going to hold up if it barely ate and he watched as it recoiled on itself, rejecting the snack in favor of staying safely in its corner.

"Come on, little guy," Albus goaded. With a swift flick of his wand, he nudged the mouse closer to the creature, hoping to make it easier. Instead, the Snallygaster just wound itself tighter, protecting itself with its long wings, peering out at Albus from under the edges.

"I know you're scared," Albus spoke in his most soothing voice. It was the one he usually reserved for small children in his family and Scorpius when he was upset following a nightmare. "My dad was an orphan too. He had to go through a lot, but he's doing just fine – well, that's relative. He's a bit mad and sometimes he yells in the middle of the night. But you'll be fine too if you eat."

Albus nudged the mouse closer until it was nearly touching the Snallygaster's tail.

"Come on. Please?"

After a few more tries, the Snallygaster gave a quick jolt, uncurling itself rapidly and snatching the mouse in its sharp claws before curling back up in the corner. Albus smiled. It was more of a reaction than they'd gotten out of it all day.

"There we go," Albus cooed. "Progress is progress."

For the next few minutes, Albus stood vigil, tossing mouse after mouse into the cage until the Snallygaster became confident that uncurling and eating wasn't going to result in pain or death. Albus kept talking to it in his calmest tone – the one Scorpius called his bedtime-story voice – and on the sixth mouse it uncurled completely. Albus held his wand out while it ate to illuminate the cage, and saw that the burn was healing nicely and the salve Odgerel had brewed had been effective.

"She's a wonder, isn't she?" Albus commented. The Snallygaster looked up at the sound of his voice, the mouse tail dangling from its mouth. "She helped heal me too," Albus explained. "My leg was quite a mess, but she's very good with curse damage. The best, I'd say. Of course, she's had a hundred and ten years to get it right."

The Snallygaster swallowed in what seemed like agreement, its eyes becoming heavy now that it had eaten. Albus watched as its reptilian third-eyelid closed over its black eyes as it curled back up, though not as tight as before.

Albus waited until the creature was sound asleep to draw back. The room was empty, save for the sleeping creatures, and Albus sighed. He wondered whether any of his favorite creatures would still be at the magizoo in London when he returned, or if he'd have to get used to all new creatures again. He missed the comfort of the rehabilitation facility and the promise of Magorian's jokes when one of the creatures wouldn't make it. He missed Harry and Ginny stopping by for lunch when they had time, and the promise of Scorpius and Zar waiting for him when he came home, and though he'd enjoyed his time here and was grateful for everything he'd learned and experienced, he was quite ready to step back into his life.

* * *

Scorpius sat back against the bookshelf and handed the book up to James before peeling off his gloves and tucking his wand back inside his robes. He pulled his glasses off and folded them carefully in his lap.

"That's it," Scorpius breathed, closing his eyes. A huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "That's every section on the list. Combed and thoroughly accounted for."

For the last four days, James had arrived at the archive early in the evening with dinner and hot tea, ready to help Scorpius comb for information, and every night he wound up pacing until Scorpius called him over to note something, place something in the boxes or piles, or return something to its shelf.

"Right," James said, placing the dilapidated book in the box gingerly with gloved hands. He was careful not to jostle it too much, lest the parchment papers fall out of the binding and scatter across the floor. "What do we do now?"

"Well, we need thorough translations and assembly of all the information," Scorpius said. The weight settled back in almost immediately.

"So, what do we do? Send this box to your friend and wait?"

Scorpius didn't have to open his eyes to know that James found this idea inadequate. His tone was enough.

"I realized pretty quickly that sending it off isn't feasible," Scorpius admitted. "There's too much and it covers too wide a time period in the text. Too many translators needed. Language changes too quickly. We'll need specialists to get it into modern English."

"So it would be like reading _Bestiarium Magicum_ in its original Old English?"

Scorpius opened one eye and raised a brow at James in surprise. He smirked, leaning back on the desk.

"What? I might not be a nerd on your level but I wasn't far from the top of my class," James reminded him. "Besides, Albus gets his love of beasts and creatures from Uncle Charlie, and I was exposed to his stories at a young age too."

"You and Albus are so different that sometimes it's hard to remember you come from the same place," Scorpius said.

"I suppose so," James said. "Though I don't think we're _that_ different."

As James started placing the scrolls and folios in the trunk, Scorpius wanted to argue but was too tired to make a list of differences between James and Albus. _He's moody and you're never less than neutral_ and _he couldn't be more of a Slytherin most days and you bleed garnet and gold,_ didn't seem like strong enough statements. After a somewhat uncomfortable moment, James spoke.

"So, what do we do? Just take them to Mahoutokoro?"

"I'm not sure if you're joking or not, but I honestly think that might be the only viable course of action right now."

"I'm not joking," James confirmed. He placed the last of the items in the trunk and secured the old latches. "Though I guess we should wait for Al–"

"Don't say it," Scorpius groaned, putting his glasses back on. "I… I can't wait for Albus. He's been away from home for months. I can't ask him to leave again and drag him halfway across the world in the _other_ direction. Especially when I don't know how long it will take or if this is going to require more legwork. I don't think I need to remind you that Albus just regained his ability to do _legwork_."

"So we wait for him, you spend a few days with him and then we go?"

"We?"

"I'm obviously going with you." James was indignant. "Your father will too."

"Dad needs to stay here with Orion, Ainsley, and Dania," Scorpius countered. "That's not an option, and Ainsley needs you. You just got back together. I can go alone."

"Have you ever traveled internationally by yourself before?"

"Well, no –"

"I do it all the time. It's not fun. It'll take more than a day to make all of the Floo connections between here and Japan, and then there's the matter of getting to Mahoutokoro, which is warded and protected, and you've got this massive pile of… notes? Books? Whatever this is. It's going to be a bloody nightmare to travel with, even with a lightening charm."

Scorpius folded his arms defiantly. He didn't like being told there were things he couldn't do.

"I think you need to wait for Albus. He's going to want to go with you."

"Absolutely not," Scorpius said firmly. Seeing Albus wasn't an option. If Albus figured out Scorpius was ill before he left, he wouldn't be going to Japan at all, and if he pulled Albus along with him, it would take less than a day for him to deduce Scorpius was ill. He'd gotten lucky before – very lucky – and he knew that luck wasn't going to hold.

Scorpius wasn't even sure he'd have the willpower to go if he waited for Albus to come home.

"I don't understand, Scorpius," James said. "He's your fiancé. This is important. It's about your family and you should tackle it together."

"I said no, James."

"Well, he's _my_ brother and I'm going to wait to see him before I take off for Merlin knows how long."

"I'm going to leave in the morning," Scorpius said, pulling himself to his feet. A thin sheet of dust fell from his robes. "Before he comes home. You wait all you like."

James eyed him suspiciously, straightening and folding his arms. It wasn't lost on Scorpius that James was the more intimidating of the Potter brothers when it came to sheer size. James was protective of his family – not unlike Harry – and Scorpius was very much aware that he was threatening to upset James' younger brother. Suddenly, he was on the wrong side of James' instincts.

Scorpius looked up at the ceiling with a sigh as if the rafters held an answer and found that they only held mice.

"With any luck this will only take a few days. All I want is to get what we need – to help Ainsley," he added quickly. "And I know that if I wait until Albus comes home he'll want to come with us and he's dealt with enough, don't you think? Besides – there's a strict 'no removing collection items' policy on everything in that trunk. It would take months to get the permits – months I'm not willing to waste and gamble with Ainsley's health. I'm taking this to Jin _now_."

"You Greengrass kids have a habit of making decisions for other people," James accused through gritted teeth. He reached in Scorpius' direction and, despite the distance, he jumped. Electricity buzzed to his fingertips.

James snatched his discarded robes from the nearby chair, judging Scorpius the entire time as he swung them on.

"But I won't argue with you. You're right. Albus or Draco would slow us down and Ainsley doesn't deserve to be kept waiting."

Scorpius sighed in relief, shaking his hands.

"Meet me at the Manor in the morning. Six o'clock. Dad never gets up before eight. We'll tell Ainsley what we're doing and get to the Floo hub before it opens."

James nodded in agreement and headed towards the exit after bidding Scorpius a terse good night. Scorpius checked the latches on the trunk meticulously, drawing his wand to cast the lightening charm, as it was far too heavy to carry.

It wasn't until James spoke that Scorpius realized he'd paused in the doorway, casting a long shadow back down the hall.

"She's going to be okay, isn't she?"

"If there's a way to help her, it's in this trunk," Scorpius said, patting the lid. "It has to be."

That, it seemed, was enough for now, and James left him in silence.

This was a bad plan, Scorpius knew. Poorly constructed. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't go, but all the alternatives took too long. He closed his eyes and folded his arms across the top of the trunk and bowed his head against it with a long, slow exhale and thought of his mother. He wondered what she'd say if she were there.

"I just want this to be over," he said softly.  

* * *

It didn't matter how much Draco had spent on resurfacing the Malfoy Manor – until the morning fog cleared, it still looked dreary.

To avoid notice, Scorpius apparated outside the Manor's gates, carrying a briefcase carefully at his side with one of Albus' old backpacks slung across his shoulder. Inside the case was all the vital material he'd pulled – carefully packed and padded for the safest transport possible.

As he walked down the long, broad path toward the front door, he spotted the peacocks moving about in the misty garden, weaving between the manicured juniper trees. He smiled fondly at them, remembering how he'd chase them as a child to make his mother laugh. In the stillness of the morning, he could nearly hear her.

Between missing Albus, keeping secrets, and knowing his cousin was ill, Scorpius had come to miss his mother very much in the last week. Astoria had always known what to say to soothe him, but he wondered if even her best lullaby would calm him now. He longed for a time when he wasn't acutely aware of his rapid heartbeat and the stress in his bones.

When he reached the front of the manor, James stood from his place on the steps. On his back was an old backpack meant for Quidditch gear, and the red and gold clashed horribly with his jacket.

It made Scorpius miss Albus even more as he clutched the strap of the matching green one.

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asked. "We'll need to run by Diagon Alley for a moment after this."

James nodded and pointed to the briefcase.

"What's that?"

"This is everything that was in the trunk," Scorpius explained. "Your aunt taught me how to do an excellent undetectable extension charm before my seventh year when I couldn't fit all my books in my trunk."

James smiled fondly at the mention of his aunt.

"She taught us the same thing," James said. "You know, you and Hermione are a lot alike."

Scorpius stood a bit straighter at the thought.

"You think? That's one of the best compliments anyone's ever given me."

They slipped into the manor quietly and made their way upstairs toward Ainsley's room. Scorpius looked over his shoulder several times, but they were fortunate that no one was awake and Pokey and Pike wouldn't be making breakfast for another hour. He only hoped that Orion would stay asleep and not wake his parents early.

They crept up to Ainsley's room carefully and Scorpius tapped his knuckles against the door – just light enough that she'd hear it if she were already awake.

When she didn't respond, Scorpius gently nudged the door open and peered in. Ainsley's small form was buried under a rather fluffy cream comforter. Around her room were books, a few belongings from her old home, and half-finished paintings. James smiled fondly at her and perched on the edge of her bed while Scorpius closed the door silently.

"Ainsley?" James shook her shoulder lightly and she stirred, rolling onto her back.

"Jamie?" she asked through a haze, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. James took her glasses from the nightstand and handed them over before she could ask. Scorpius set the briefcase down at the foot of her bed, waiting for her to come to her senses. On her bedside table sat three bottles – one of them open and empty – and he recognized the faint smell of restoration potions immediately.

One breath was all it took to remind him of his mother, smiling at him weakly on the day she died, her skin pale but her eyes so alive as she held his hand and told him she loved him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. She slid her glasses on and jumped, realizing Scorpius was there for the first time. He waved at her.

"Good morning."

"Oh, this can't be good," she groaned, falling back against her small mountain of pillows.

"It is good," James assured her. "Scorpius has a lot of relevant material and we're going to take it to his colleague in Japan."

Ainsley's eyes darted between James and Scorpius quickly.

"You're leaving?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Scorpius said. "I can't send this with a courier and I'm not willing to wait for permits. We have to."

"Albus leaves Brazil _tomorrow_ ," Ainsley countered. "He's going to expect you to be here."

Scorpius' throat tightened and he wrapped the corner of her comforter around his hand nervously.

"I know." Scorpius wound the edge around the back of his hand, staring Ainsley down behind James' back. "He's been gone so long – I can't ask him to leave again and you know he wouldn't hesitate. Besides, the last time he had to deal with one of my problems, he wound up nearly-crippled. That's why it's important that this is done as soon as possible."

Ainsley stared at him, wide-eyed and tense. Scorpius had expected this – her argument that he should wait for Albus, but waiting meant Albus knowing he was ill before he had a solution, and that meant Draco finding out, which would inevitably end in Scorpius living in a bubble with only books and potions for company.

Scorpius could see her working through the alternatives in her silence and after a beat, she agreed. "I suppose so."

When James raised his hand to the side of her face, her expression softened immediately.

"I don't suppose I can convince you I should come with you, could I?"

"No," James assured her, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "We'll be back before you know it."

"You should go before Orion wakes everyone up," Ainsley said. "He usually starts crying around six-thirty."

James nodded, but didn't move and only let his hand fall to Ainsley's side. He stared at her with such unflinching devotion that Scorpius turned away to give them a moment and examined the items on Ainsley's mantle – a pewter badger, a stack of well-worn journals, and the sparkling crystal hare Draco had given her last Christmas. On the edge sat an antique photo frame with an image from her Hogwarts graduation. Scorpius watched as he hoisted Ainsley onto his back, laughing, while Draco and Dania looked on. In the background, he could see James and Albus watching with identical smiles.

He turned around when he heard James' feet hit the floor, but Ainsley wasn't done. She tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and whispered something in his ear – a last minute reminder that Scorpius wasn't meant to hear. Whatever it was, James nodded to it and smiled at her, smoothing down her hair before backing away.

"Tell my father I'm sorry," Scorpius said and drew two letters from the outside pocket of his backpack and lay them on the bed beside her. "These are for him and Albus. They explain _mostly_ everything."

"I'll make sure they get them," Ainsley promised.

"Can you meet Albus at our house when he gets home?"

"I'll take care of it, Scorpius."

"I just want to make sure –"

"Can you trust me? Just this once?"

Scorpius let out a slow exhale. Leaving the room meant embarking on something Scorpius wasn't sure would be fruitful, and he was trying not to look as frightened as he felt as he bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"Love you."

"Love you too," Ainsley said. "Love you both. Be careful."

"I'm always careful," James assured her with an arrogant smirk as Scorpius seized the suitcase and joined him at the door. She laughed softly and nodded, her hand folding around the heavy parchment of the letters.

* * *

Albus had only a few minutes left before his Portkey to Rio de Janeiro was set to activate, and he had yet to find Odgerel. He searched each enclosure, the main building, and the mess hall, but the elderly Mongolian witch was nowhere to be seen.

"Stephen!" He called across the field. "Have you seen Odgerel?"

Stephen shook his head and shrugged, dropping his suitcase to the ground. He, Martha, and a few others were ready to leave and were gathered around the old broom handle that would take them into wizarding Rio.

Albus checked his watch. He had ten minutes before the Portkey, and then a long day of Floo connections ending in an even longer flight ahead of him.

"Damn it," he growled, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder and prowling between the village buildings again. He resorted to calling Odgerel's name over and over again, hoping eventually he would find her.

After a minute, he spotted her emerging a few buildings down, tugging on a bathrobe with her wiry gray hair pulled into the messiest knot Albus had ever seen.

"There you are!"

"Albus, you could wake the dead if you yelled a bit louder," Odgerel said, her voice heavily accented and roughened by age. Albus approached her and grinned down at her. She'd shared some family photos with the group and Albus knew she'd been short in her prime, but she was nearly minuscule after being compressed by time.

"I'm surprised you could hear me," Albus teased. "Isn't hearing the first thing to go?"

She smacked him on the arm, but grinned.

"Shouldn't you be leaving?"

"Yes, but I wanted to see you before I went," Albus began. "I just… I wanted to thank you one more time for working on my leg like that. It wasn't easy."

"It certainly wasn't easy with you yelling and thrashing about," Odgerel complained. She gave him a friendly glare and Albus knew she didn't mean it.

"Yeah, I know. I said some pretty awful things," Albus agreed. "But in my defense those healing techniques were brutal."

"Indeed, they are." she nodded. "Don't forget Nicolao, Albus. Without his knowledge of potions, we wouldn't have gotten very far."

Albus looked down at his shoes, trying hard to picture Nicolao as he'd handed Albus awful tasting potions with an optimistic smile and a joke told in broken English – not his charred body as they'd pulled it from the rubble.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back to England with me?" Albus asked. "My aunt is the Minister for Magic. We could easily arrange some Portkeys and have you back in Mongolia by Sunday."

"No, no, no," Odgerel said. "I said I'm staying here and I meant it. These people are going to need all the help they can get while they make this place what it was."

Albus couldn't help looking at the scorched trees and cleared earth where one of the staff bungalows used to sit.

"Besides, my children and grandchildren and great grandchildren are all doing just fine," Odgerel assured him. "They don't need me right now. And with my husband gone… well, this is the place I know I can do the most good. I want to be where I can make a difference."

"You certainly made a difference to me."

She looked up at him and Albus knew his words had hit home. Odgerel opened her mouth to speak but couldn't seem to find the words and just nodded. It reminded Albus of his grandmother, and his heart ached for one of Molly's warm hugs and chicken-and-ham pies.

"If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to get in touch with me," Albus said. He handed her a piece of parchment. "This is my address and my parents' address. What you did for me… that's something I can never repay, but if there's ever anything I can do for you, just let me know. I'll be able to dance at my own wedding. Well – dance is a strong word. I never could dance well, despite mum's best efforts."

Odgerel looked at the parchment for a moment before meeting Albus' eyes, her face crinkled into one of the kindest smiles he'd ever seen.

"What you can do for me is catch that Portkey and go home. Marry that handsome young man of yours."

Albus couldn't fight the grin as he thought of Scorpius.

"Yes ma'am," Albus said. "That I can do."

"Run along, then," she said, slapping his shoulder with the parchment. "Go."

"Thank you, Odgerel," Albus said again, stepping back and away.

"Send wedding pictures!"

"I will!"

Albus walked back to the group which had now swelled to over twenty as departure time neared. The few Mexicans, Canadians, and Americans who had been in the program stood around a burned tree stump where the old broom handle waited. Martha kept checking her watch nervously as everyone hugged, saying goodbye and wishing one another well. Promises to write and keep in touch were exchanged, and Albus was pulled into the fold with everyone else.

This place and this community, Albus mused, was what he'd dreamed Hogwarts would be as a child, and this sensation of happily yearning to go home was what he'd always wanted. He was happy to have been here, glad to have helped during a struggle, and grateful to have enjoyed something that was so bittersweet to let go of.

* * *

Running by Gringotts for a sack full of galleons from the Malfoy vault wasn't unexpected for James. The trip to Azkaban, however, was a bit of a surprise.

Scorpius was walking ahead of him, taking long strides as if shaving mere seconds off this trip would make a difference. James had the suspicion it wasn't going to work. The dark hallways had always intimidated him when he'd come here on Gringotts business – questioning thieves wasn't fun, but the environment was so dreary and thick with misery that he always felt heavy for the rest of the day.

James held his head up and walked faster. He couldn't afford to feel heavy or slow down. Not if Ainsley was sick and needed him.

"You don't have to go in with me," Scorpius muttered as James caught up. The auror escorting them to Daphne Greengrass' cell didn't seem to care what they said. At this hour of the morning, he didn't even seem awake and it was of some comfort to James that the auror, at least, still had his wand.

"Oh, yes I do," James countered. "You're not seeing her alone. I don't even know why we're here – what on earth could she have to tell us?"

"Daphne probably knows more than anyone else about my family history." Scorpius was tugging at the edges of his sleeves nervously, twisting the fabric between his fingers. "I need to know whatever she knows. She said some things to me when…"

Scorpius' voice trailed off and his eyes became distant as they abruptly turned a corner.

"I don't remember the name she said," Scorpius admitted as the auror slowed down and drew his wand. He swallowed hard, wringing his hands almost violently. James noticed what he was doing – twisting his ring around his finger.

The auror raised his wand to the cell door, and James stared at the plaque beside it.

_Daphne A. Greengrass_.

He'd only met Daphne once and she had been memorably unpleasant. Whenever Ainsley brought her up, it seemed to be an accident and she'd change topics as quickly as possible.

"Daphne's going to hate this," James reminded Scorpius.

"I know. But the alternative was either informing my father and having him find reasons why we should wait or explore more options, or asking Ainsley to come here."

James remembered the last – and only – time Ainsley had visited her mother. She'd shown up shaken and devastated at his flat and was quiet and reserved three days after.

His thoughts shifted immediately to Albus, and how Daphne had crippled him. James forced down the guilt he never discussed – that he should have been there. He should have helped and come home sooner. He should have protected his little brother, but he'd been too selfish and blind and Albus had wound up finishing Hogwarts while relying on a cane.

Scorpius rubbed at his wrists and James bit his lip as the auror swung the door open, gesturing them in.

"Greengrass, you've got visitors."

"Send them away."

Daphne's voice came from the far corner of the room where she was curled on her bed, her back to the door – a mere lump of blankets with human form.

"I think you'll want to talk to me," Scorpius said, his voice firm and impartial.

Daphne pulled herself up slowly and turned her head to look at them as the auror closed the door behind James. Her eyes were cold and dead with dark circles beneath them and her hair was matted against the side of her skull.

Ainsley had always said she took after both her mother and her aunt, but James couldn't see it. His girlfriend was beautiful and kind. Daphne was a spiteful human disaster.

"What do you want?" Daphne hissed, staring at Scorpius so intently that James wondered if she even noticed him.

"I have a few questions for you. Do you think you might want to get up and talk to me?"

"Absolutely not," Daphne huffed and fell back onto her bed. "Auror! Take them away – I don't want visitors."

Outside, the auror scuffled noisily.

"It's their prerogative," James hissed. Scorpius nodded, still staring at her as the door opened again.

"Gentlemen, if you'll follow me."

"It's Ainsley." Scorpius' voice was clinical and calculated. His mouth was set into a hard line as he stared at his aunt. The auror stepped in behind them.

Daphne rolled over and looked at them. She glared at Scorpius as the auror reached out to turn him and urge them out.

"What about Ainsley?"

"She's taken ill," Scorpius said.

A heavy silence hung in the room. Scorpius and James stood still, waiting for Daphne to decide and the auror looked between them.

"Ms. Greengrass?"

Daphne's voice came at barely more than a whisper. "Let them stay."

Scorpius waited until the auror stepped back to move into the room, his arms folded across his chest.

"What's wrong with her?" Daphne asked, staring at the floor with distain.

"You know what's wrong with her."

James had spent enough time with Scorpius to know this wasn't how he normally talked to people. Happiness, far-off stares and anxiety – that was Scorpius Malfoy.

"No," Daphne said, defiant. "No, that's wrong."

"It's the truth," Scorpius confirmed. "Now, I need you to tell me everything you know about the curse."

Daphne sat up further, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He didn't remember her well from the previous time they'd talked, but he knew she hadn't looked like this – withered and broken. He wondered if her face was frozen in that scowl – an expression he was quite certain Ainsley could only approximate.

Scorpius grabbed a chair from the bare metal table to the side and swung it around so he could sit in front of his aunt. James watched as he sank into it, his arms folded and hands tucked tight against his sides, uncomfortable but unyielding.

"Why?" Daphne rasped. "There's nothing you can do if it's the blood curse. I thought…"

"I know what you thought," Scorpius said.

"I don't." James spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it when he was faced with Daphne's glare.

Scorpius' eyes never moved from Daphne, but he turned just a bit to address him.

"Daphne was under the impression that my more… unique abilities were an indication that the Greengrass curse had finally faded away," Scorpius explained. "Clearly, she was wrong."

Daphne's glare shifted back to Scorpius, but her lips trembled as she spoke.

"How bad is it? Is she okay?"

Scorpius opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He ran his hand back through his hair and sighed. He tapped his toe on the floor nervously.

"It's not bad yet," Scorpius told her. "But we do think there might be a way to get rid of it."

Daphne froze, gripping the thin blanket on her bed tightly.

"Astoria."

"We can't change the past." Scorpius' voice was tight. "But we can help Ainsley if you tell me what you know."

Daphne regarded him for a moment, then looked at James. Her lower lip trembled in the same way Ainsley's did when she was upset and he crossed his arms, suddenly very uneasy and aware that his wand had been taken.

"She's with you, isn't she?"

"Is she my girlfriend? Yes."

Daphne gave him a disgusted sneer, then looked back to Scorpius.

"My own daughter," she muttered. "One of the last completely pureblooded witches in Britain, and she's with a _Potter_."

"I'll remind you that I am too and thank you not to speak ill of my future brother-in-law."

Her eyes flared.

"Blood-traitors, both of you," she spat. "At least you won't have children – small blessings I suppose –"

Scorpius was on his feet in a second, towering over her. James stepped forward, but realized quickly that he shouldn't interfere as Scorpius crowded his aunt against the bed, closer than James would have expected after everything she'd put him through.

Then again, James realized he was never clear on what had happened. He'd never asked much more than what Albus had volunteered.

"Daphne, you have two choices," Scorpius said. His voice was dangerously quiet and James moved closer to them, suddenly afraid he'd have to restrain Scorpius. "You can either tell me what you know, or I can force it out of you."

"They took our wands," James muttered. "She knows that."

"Oh, I don't need a wand," Scorpius said. "She knows that too. And that's not something they can strip from me upon entry, now is it?"

Daphne slid back from him in reply.

"I was never good at Legilimency. Dad tried to teach me a long time ago, but it never took. I could never navigate too far. I was sloppy – he said I risked damaging the person's mind."

Daphne swallowed hard, her eyes wide.

"But Ainsley's life is worth an infinite amount more than your sanity and I wouldn't blink at risking your mental stability to find out everything you know."

James stepped forward, his concern mounting. In all the years he'd known Scorpius, he'd never seen him like this at all.

"Mate, that's a bit much."

Scorpius held his hand up to silence him, his eyes boring into Daphne while he waited for her answer.

"What will it be?" Scorpius asked, impatient.

Daphne took a deep breath and looked down from Scorpius to his pristine trainers.

"What do you want to know?" Daphne asked, and as he began demanding answers to his questions, James realized precisely why Scorpius had been sorted into Slytherin.

* * *

"That's precious little to go on." James looked over Scorpius' shoulder as they walked toward the Leaky Cauldron. It was nearly eight o'clock and James was beginning to worry that Draco Malfoy would appear from a corner and tackle his son to the ground.

The parchment in Scorpius' hand had only a few details – that Abel Gringras had been cursed in the mid-1670s. He'd been something like a feudal lord and had maintained the loyalty of the surrounding townspeople by offering magical solutions to mundane problems in the guise of blessings and medicine. She hadn't known anything more – not the kind of curse or who was responsible.

"It's almost nothing," Scorpius agreed, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle of the briefcase. He was more nervous now than he'd ever been in his life - "I don't know if it will make a difference. Maybe it won't, but it was worth a try."

They stepped into the Leaky Cauldron's dim light, and Scorpius rubbed his eyes. He'd gotten precious little sleep the night before between pacing and packing and agonizing over whether he'd done the right thing.

_I just want it done,_ he thought over and over.

"Are you sure you're good to be doing this, mate?" James asked.

His expression was neutral, but his voice was concerned, and for a second Scorpius was terrified that James knew he was ill. His fingers tightened around the briefcase.

"Of course," Scorpius assured him. "I just want this done. I want to help her before it can get bad. Before she has the chance to get hurt."

James hummed and nodded in agreement, seizing some Floo powder from cup near the open connection in the main room.

"To Victoria?" James asked.

Scorpius nodded reluctantly and grabbed some Floo powder for himself. He hated the Floo hub and had ever since he got lost there as a child, but it was a necessary evil to get from here to Paris and from Paris to Kiev and then a Portkey to Almaty… Scorpius' head was already aching.

"Ready?"

And then he was standing in front of the fireplace with James watching him expectantly, as if he thought Scorpius would back away and say he couldn't leave.

Scorpius swallowed and nodded, his resolve firm.

"Ready."

He stepped into the fireplace without a look back and without reservation. He had what he hoped was a case full of answers to a problem that had plagued his family for centuries – one he had every intention of solving.

He and Ainsley weren't meant to be cursed. They were meant to live long, happy lives surrounded by the people they loved, and Scorpius was going to do everything he could to make sure he was around to annoy Albus well into old age.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my.
> 
> An especially long chapter in return for an especially long wait.
> 
> Thoughts? Feelings? I want to know about it!
> 
> I eat comments for breakfast - [keep me well fed.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> <3


	13. Translation

The front hall was dark when Albus entered. He tried his hardest to contain his excitement and stay quiet – it was barely past six o'clock in the morning, but Zar had other plans. As soon as Albus closed the door behind himself, the massive ball of black and white fur came bounding down the hallway, barking and whimpering with uncontainable joy.

"Hey, buddy!" Albus exclaimed, giving up. As he threw his things to the ground and bent to hug and pet his dog, he watched down the hallway closely, expecting Scorpius to appear at any second, half asleep and cleaning his glasses on the hem of his pajamas. He was a light sleeper, especially when he was alone. Surely the barking had woken him.

He waited for a minute, calming Zar down, but Scorpius didn't appear. Albus frowned and straightened as Zar, too excited to stay still, bounced up the hall, looking back at Albus as if he wanted to be followed.

Something was wrong.

Curious, Albus followed Zar toward the sitting room. It wouldn't be the first time Scorpius had fallen asleep there. He liked to read in front of the fire and often had to be woken to go to bed. Albus smiled at the thought of Scorpius sprawled out on the couch, his book lying on his chest, glasses askew, those long legs dangling over the arm…

When Albus rounded the corner, he was surprised to see that it wasn't Scorpius that Zar had jumped on. Instead, Ainsley was groaning as she woke, gently fighting off Zar's affectionate licks.

"Ugh," she mumbled. "Damn it. Zar, stop."

Albus whistled once and Zar sat down across her legs, panting at him happily. Ainsley wiped the dog saliva from her cheeks and grabbed her glasses from the coffee table. Albus spotted a heavy parchment envelope sitting on the table with his name written on it in Scorpius' favorite dark blue ink and immediately felt a sinking in his chest.

Something was very wrong.

"Ainsley? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but…" Albus trailed off, trying to contain his irritation and fear. He rubbed his face, exhausted. He'd been too excited to sleep between gaps in Floo connections and then on the plane and was hoping to curl up in bed with his fiancé for a few hours before seeing his family.

"But what am I doing here?" Ainsley supplied. She was wrapped in a quilt Grandma Weasley had made him years ago out of old t-shirts he'd loved as a child.

"Well, yes."

Ainsley gave him a sad look and reached for her wand. With a quick spell, she lit the lanterns around the room and grabbed the parchment envelope.

"You don't look well." Albus pulled off his button up which was sticky from the summer heat and tossed it on a nearby armchair, leaving himself in only an old t-shirt that still felt like too much after such a long day. "Are you ill?"

"I think Scorpius could probably explain," she said, holding it out to him, and Albus understood very quickly that Scorpius wasn't here at all. His heart sank completely and he fell onto the sofa beside Ainsley, who curled up to make room for him.

When he took the envelope, he caught the depth of the dark circles under her eyes and the tremor in her hand.

Something was very, very wrong.

Albus pulled Scorpius' letter out of the envelope and began to read.

> _Albus,_
> 
> _I don't know how you're going to receive this letter, but I know that by the time you read it you'll be home safely, which is really all that matters._
> 
> _You were expecting me to be there when you arrived and I am so sorry that I wasn't. Believe me, I wish I'd been there, sitting on the front step with a hot mug of coffee for you._
> 
> _A lot has happened in the last few weeks. Things I couldn't put in my letters, but they're things you need to know._
> 
> _Ainsley broke up with James because she realized she carried the Greengrass curse._

Albus looked up at Ainsley who gave him another sad smile and a nod. His hands went numb.

> _She has time, but a while ago Jin mentioned that he'd found some information on old blood curses and possible counters for them in those old scrolls. As soon as I found out she was ill, I started gathering information. I realized quickly that I wasn't going to be able to just send these things off for translation. It's too complex, and who's more familiar with the curse than I am?_
> 
> _When James found out he started spending nights at the archive with me and helped me gather everything that was relevant, and as soon as I'd covered everything I could, we left for Japan. The only person I know who can begin go make any sense of this is Jin and the people he knows that helped supply information for his book. They're all in old Asian languages that I can't even begin to tackle, so James and I are hand-delivering the stolen collection immediately so we can start working on the counter curse. I couldn't wait to only-possibly get permits to take these items off-site. It's too much of a risk._
> 
> _It's a lot to take in, but that's the whole of what's happened, and it's only been within the last couple of weeks. I didn't want to scare you or make you feel like you had to rush home, and I hadn't been expecting to be gone when you arrived._
> 
> _You're likely furious with me._

Albus scoffed. Scorpius knew him well.

> _I hope you can forgive both me and James. We'll be checking in with Harry on the Muggle mobile whenever we can so you don't have to wait for letters._
> 
> _I will be home as soon as I can and I will do everything in my power to make this up to you. I shouldn't be gone for too long – a week, at most._
> 
> _I love you so much._
> 
> _Your fiancé,_
> 
> _Scorpius_

Albus stared at Scorpius' perfect signature for nearly thirty seconds before calmly folding the letter and slipping it back into its envelope.

"So you _are_ ill," Albus said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. An hour ago he'd been laughing with happiness as he arrived at the London Victoria Floo hub, and now his throat was so tight he could barely speak.

"I am," Ainsley confirmed.

"And Scorpius thinks he has a counter curse?"

"He thinks he might have a possible lead on one. Yes."

"He and James are in Japan?"

Ainsley looked at her watch and thought for a moment. "By now, yes. They should be."

"They're working together?"

Ainsley nodded, apparently as surprised as Albus at the development.

Albus swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe deep and slow as the implications of a counter curse settled upon him.

"So, there might have been a way to save his mum under the library this entire time? And he's known for ages?"

Ainsley looked down at the quilt and began picking at a stray thread. It told Albus all he needed to know.

"Blimey, that must have nearly killed him," he sighed, resting his head in his hands. "He never told me."

"I think we're all struggling with it, to be honest." Ainsley looked up at him from under her bangs. "Draco has been abnormally quiet."

"Why did you break up with James? Why not just tell him?"

Albus could barely hear Ainsley's response. "I didn't want him to spend the next ten years watching me die, but once he found out…"

"For Dumbledore's sake, Ainsley –" Albus cut himself off before he could redirect his anger at Scorpius towards Ainsley. He got to his feet, rubbing his face again. He paced despite the tightness in his knee and hip from being seated for so long.

"Albus," Ainsley began. Her tone was soft and consoling and only served to make Albus angrier.

"Wait. You looked at your watch like they _just_ would have arrived in Japan."

Ainsley nodded, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders.

"So he couldn't… they couldn't wait an extra day or so for me to get here?"

Ainsley bit her lip, staring at him, and Albus knew that look. She didn't know what to say. Albus let out a long exhale. His chest was tight and his head was suddenly pounding with exhaustion, irritation, and disorientation. He could still smell the soil from the preserve on his clothes – he'd gone so far around the globe in a day expecting to be met with a squeal of glee, a kiss, and chatter of wedding plans.

Instead, the house felt cold and empty.

"Ainsley, no offense but I am exhausted and would very much like to be alone now."

Ainsley nodded and got to her feet, stumbling and yawning. Albus knew it was probably his imagination, but she looked paler and thinner than when he'd seen her last. Certainly she'd been through an ordeal…

She crossed beside him to head toward the fireplace, her eyes downcast. She was eager to escape whatever Albus was feeling, which seemed to be growing by the second and threatened to take up the entire room but he caught her around the waist as she passed him and drew her into a gentle hug that she returned quickly, gripping at the back of his shirt.

"I'm glad you're home, Albus," she muttered into his chest.

"I'm glad I am too." Albus held her close for a moment longer. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you, Ainsley. What can I do to help? Anything. Just tell me."

"Don't be too mad at Scorpius and James," she said. "They're both scared for very different reasons."

Albus considered that for a moment. James would have been upset about Ainsley leaving him, only to find out that she'd done so to protect him. That alone would have been enough to rattle him, but then to learn she was ill and dying slowly…

Albus winced at the thought.

Scorpius, who had watched his mother suffer for so long would have been crushed to learn that the only family he had left on his mother's side was poised to suffer the same way.

And Albus hadn't been there for either of them.

"Can I just meet them in Japan?" Albus asked. "I'm still packed."

"I think Scorpius didn't wait for you because he knew it wouldn't take long." Ainsley stepped back from his grip but didn't meet his eyes. "I'm not sure entirely, but they have their reasons."

Again, Albus had the sick feeling that something was wrong.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Ainsley said quickly. Her expression was so earnest that Albus almost believed her. Almost. "I'm just so upset about all of this – that they even had to do something like this. And I'm on these stupid curse-blocking blood-correcting potions that leave me so drained and dead-feeling… that's probably not the right phrase to use, is it?"

Albus cringed and shook his head. "No, it isn't."

Ainsley sighed. "As if Draco and Dania fretting over me wasn't enough, James and Scorpius had to run off to the other side of the bloody world to try and fix this and we don't even know if…"

Ainsley took a deep breath to steady herself and Albus' eyes widened. She looked moments from tears, and if she started crying, he wasn't entirely sure he could keep himself together.

"I can't cry anymore," Ainsley told him through a deep breath. "Because even though I'm taking the potions I still bruise and get sore easily and a good sobbing fit can leave me aching for _days_ right now."

Albus swore. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"

She shook her head again.

"No. No, they're doing everything they can. We just have to wait and see if Scorpius and his friend find something relevant."

Though Albus knew there was nothing between Scorpius and Jin beyond admiration and a long-distance, scholarly friendship, Albus grew jealous at the thought and had to forcibly remind himself that he was _engaged_ and nothing was going to happen.

"Okay," Albus breathed, calming himself. "Okay. Everything is okay. This just wasn't what I was expecting."

"I know." Ainsley stepped toward the fireplace and reached for the Floo powder. Albus instantly regretted asking her to leave, but the burn in his eyes and ache in his bones stopped him from asking her to stay. "They'll be back soon."

"And if they don't find something now, we've still got time to keep looking."

Ainsley tossed the powder into the fireplace and nodded as the fire cast a green glow around the room and across her small body.

"Yeah. There's time." She gave him a small smile before stepping into the fireplace, and Albus knew she didn't believe her own words. There was something more going on, but he didn't trust his tired mind to figure it out.

Albus sank down into his favorite armchair, unable to stand and unable to think. The silence of his home pressed in on him, and for the second time in his life he had to wonder exactly where Scorpius was.

* * *

After three Floo connections, a twelve-hour wait for their first Portkey, and a quick rush through downtown Tokyo to their second one, Scorpius and James found themselves outside the gates of Mahoutokoro, their path of entry blocked by an animated statue of a massive petrel. The stone bird stood at well over three meters high and gazed down its beak at James and Scorpius with its strange black eyes, cocking its head as if it were waiting for something.

"Um…" Scorpius began. "Hello, there! We're here to see Jin Eisuke? Professor Jin Eisuke? Do you know English?"

"Don't insult it," James hissed. "It could peck our eyes out."

"If it tries it will kill us," Scorpius spat back. "Look at the size of that beak."

Scorpius looked back up at the bird and swallowed. He tightened his grip on the briefcase and his wand, truly afraid that he'd have to duel the statue or something and wondering whether that was a ridiculous idea.

_Hogwarts has moving staircases that are essentially death traps,_ Scorpius thought. _Safety doesn't seem to be a top priority at wizarding schools._

"It might not have to. We are in the middle of a bloody volcano, aren't we?" James looked around, nervous.

The bird tilted its head and one of the eyes caught the sun, glistening for a moment. Scorpius realized that they were made of volcano glass.

"Please?" Scorpius asked politely. "We do really need to see Professor Eisuke. We've come here for help."

At the word 'help,' the petrel held its head high and let out a guttural cry that sounded more like a unified flock of birds instead of just one. It echoed around the area and Scorpius jumped back as the bird began to beat its wings. The air whipped around them and Scorpius was only able to keep his eyes open because they were protected by his glasses. James shielded his face from the rising cloud of sand and dirt as the bird rose from the ground and the gates swung open.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Scorpius muttered. James muttered a brief charm and created a bubble of still air around them as they walked through the gates, keeping the swirling earth away from them.

"That's an odd way to greet guests."

"I bet it has some kind of enchantment to judge your intention," Scorpius speculated. They began walking up the long path toward the massive white and jade pagoda and Scorpius looked over his shoulder to see the petrel statue settling back into its post. He'd read all about Mahoutokoro in history books but had never encountered word of a stone gate-guardian. Perhaps the school had other closely-guarded secrets.

The Mahoutokoro palace was a massive fortress nearly the size of Hogwarts. Scorpius knew it was full of students from across Asia – Mahoutokoro had arguably one of the most diverse student bodies of all magical schools, and was thus the home of many magical scholars.

Scorpius itched to get into their library, but knew it would be pointless. He'd only been tutored in romance languages as a child and though that had served him well thus far, he lamented for a moment that he'd never learned kanji.

They approached the front doors – a dark wood with a jade design laid into it depicting a contingent of students battling a dragon – and looked to one another, uncertain. James shrugged and pounded on the door three times before stepping back and waiting.

"Watch. They won't even let us in and we will have run through that Tokyo crowd for nothing," James said. Though Scorpius knew he was joking, he still felt apprehensive. He raised his hand to his shoulder where a bruise from bumping into a street vendor in their race was beginning to blossom.

For nearly a minute they stood in silence until the door opened a little and they were greeted by an elderly wizard dressed in golden robes and a matching tassel hat resting over his bald scalp. He held his wand tight as he regarded them, his eyes flickering from James to Scorpius in vague recognition.

"We're here to see Jin Eisuke."

Scorpius nodded in rapid and unnecessary agreement, as if James needed the support in this uncomfortable situation.

The wizard looked at them for a moment longer and then called back into the cavernous room in rapid Japanese. After a moment, a witch in light blue robes who appeared to be no more than twelve appeared at his side. He whispered to her before she addressed the guests.

"Harada-sensei would like to know why you are here," she said in heavily-accented English.

"We need to see Jin Eisuke. I believe he is one of your history teachers," Scorpius said slowly, feeling less prepared and less intelligent by the second.

The girls' face brightened under her sleek dark bangs and she straightened her robes, standing tall. She translated to the elderly wizard quickly, gesturing towards them with excitement.

"I bet they don't get many visitors out here," James muttered. "Being in a bloody volcano in the middle of the ocean and all."

Scorpius shushed him through a smile. The girl turned back to them with a grin.

"Eisuke-sensei? I can take you to him."

The wizard (Harada? Haruda? Scorpius kicked himself for not paying attention) opened the door wider for them, ushering them inside the massive tower. The atrium was as grand as the outside – tall and open to the ceiling. Scorpius looked up in awe. He could have counted the levels of the tower if he'd had enough time – the railings along the open edges of the floors were all made of different types of metal and they shone brilliantly in the light from the glass ceiling.

Students leaned over the railings, calling to one another and laughing as they rushed between classes. Their robes were all different colors according to their level and skill, and it created a shifting rainbow all around them.

He'd read about the Mahoutokoro Palace as a child, but had never dreamed it would be so grand. It wasn't until James tugged at his sleeve that Scorpius realized he'd stopped in the center of the hall, staring up with his eyes wide and his mouth open. When he looked back down, the young witch seemed amused.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Scorpius nodded and James clapped him on the shoulder as they began to climb the large marble staircase that dominated one side of the atrium. Scorpius bit back a groan of pain as James' large hand came down on his bruise. Fortunately, James was too interested in what he was seeing to notice.

"Holy hippogriffs, this place is beautiful," he said with glee. Their guide laughed and seemed to translate to Harada, who was bounding up the stairs with agility that seemed to defy his age. Scorpius noticed he hadn't yet stowed his wand and understood that they were being escorted by what was essentially an armed guard.

_I bet McGonagall escorts visitors herself when people show up_ , Scorpius mused fondly. Professor McGonagall's protectiveness over her students was the stuff of legend, and he thought of how she'd helped him in his seventh year. He felt a sudden and intense longing for Hogwarts and thus for Albus, as Scorpius had never been able to separate the two.

At the third floor, the girl led them down a long corridor lined with dark wooden paneling and clean golden lanterns. They dodged students of all ages in an array of robe colors, and Scorpius bit his tongue as one of them bumped into him and caught his ribs with the pointed edge of a large textbook. James tripped over a particularly small student and stumbled back against a wall.

"Merlin – how young do they start here?"

"Seven," Scorpius answered. "Far younger than we did."

"Maybe that's why they beat us every year in the Potions Championship."

They wove their way down yet another corridor until the girl stopped them at a large door. Harada eyed them warily as she nudged it open and stuck her head inside. Scorpius could see that the room was full of teenage students, and he heard Jin's voice echoing around the chamber. Scorpius grinned and wrapped his arms around the heavy briefcase as some of the tightness in his chest dissipated. Jin was brilliant. There was no way he and Scorpius couldn't put their minds together and puzzle this out.

Scorpius didn't see the interaction beyond the door, but the young witch opened it wider and gestured them in. He thanked her, hugging the briefcase tight in his relief and entered the silent classroom.

Along the sides, students were staring at the new visitors in silence. The robes weren't the only array of color – the students along the walls seemed to be from all over Asia. Scorpius offered a small smile and wave before spotting Jin at the head of the classroom, standing behind a heavy wooden desk with his golden robes tossed over the back of his chair.

"This can't be good," Jin muttered. He called to his class in Japanese and the students scrambled to gather their things and leave, so he must have dismissed them. Scorpius jumped out of the way and pressed himself back against the wall next to the door, lest he wind up with even more bruises. He waited for the last student to close the door behind themselves before approaching Jin down the long corridor between the tiered desks.

"Jin! It's so good to see you. I need your help."

"That much is clear," Jin said, coming around his desk.

Scorpius set the briefcase on the desk and embraced his friend with so much enthusiasm that he caused his own small injuries to ache, but he didn't care. Finally, he had some help he could trust.

"Jin, this is James Potter," Scorpius said, bouncing on his feet despite his exhaustion. "James, this is Jin Eisuke."

The two men regarded one another and shook hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jin said. "Obviously I've read a lot about you. Your family is famous here as well."

"I'm sure we are," James said. His laugh didn't reach his eyes. "Nice to meet you."

Jin looked at the briefcase settled on his desk with skepticism.

"Do I even want to know what's in there?" Jin asked with a small smile. Scorpius sighed and sagged onto the surface of the desk for support.

"Probably not, but it's why we're here," Scorpius said.

"Well, let's get to it," Jin said.

"This might take a while. And a larger desk."

Jin caught the tone of worry in Scorpius' voice. He looked between James and Scorpius warily before nodding.

"Of course. I'll get someone to cancel my classes. Let's get somewhere private, shall we?"

* * *

Jin's home was small, quaint and comfortable – full of smells and warmth that threatened to lull Scorpius to sleep immediately upon entry. Jin's wife, a small woman named Naoki, welcomed them with open arms and Scorpius felt quite horrible for the intrusion. Jin had mentioned the last time he'd been in Britain that they'd be expecting a child soon, and it hadn't even occurred to Scorpius that their abrupt visit might be inopportune.

He didn't have the energy to feel too horrible, though and fortunately Naoki had the presence of mind to make both him and James a strong cup of tea before they could even consider nodding off.

Scorpius drank it with the utmost gratitude while Jin spread a clean sheet across the living room floor after levitating the furniture out of the way. He pulled on his gloves and started pulling out scrolls, parchment and folios by the handful as Scorpius explained what was happening. When his tiredness threatened to take over and Scorpius leaned into the arm of the sofa with his eyes closed, James filled in the gaps, listing Ainsley's symptoms and explaining how they'd organized all of the materials that were now spread across the floor.

Naoki refilled their mugs twice before Scorpius finally fell completely silent, his concentration and emotional reserves spent.

Once the case was empty, Jin sat back on his heels and surveyed the considerable pile of historical materials in front of him.

"Well, I have to say – I'm impressed," Jin said. "The reason you're here is bloody awful," he amended quickly, "but you brought everything in perfect condition. We don't even have to waste time sorting it."

Scorpius leaned back into the sofa, completely and utterly relieved.

"What do we do with it now?"

"Well, there's a lot here on blood curses," Jin confirmed, unrolling one of the older and more fragile scrolls with care. "I didn't tell you too much about it because you asked me not to, but a great deal of what you brought is relevant to curses and counter curses."

"That's good, right?" James leaned forward onto his knees, excited. "That means there's probably something in there that can help?"

"It's possible," Jin confirmed. "Not probable. But possible."

"What do we need to do?" Scorpius asked again. "Do you have extra gloves? I can –"

Jin held up his hand to silence Scorpius before he could begin rambling.

"You've both done excellent," Jin assured them. "Truly. But I need to divide these by the translator that needs to see them."

Naoki placed a hand atop her husband's head, speaking in heavily accented but pristine English.

"Do you need me to call the courier?"

"Would you?" Jin smiled up at her with a fondness impossible to ignore. When she left to do just that, Jin still had a small smile on his face.

"She's a healer's aide," Jin explained. "We only have one large magical hospital in Japan, so she often works with traveling wizards and witches. Mostly everyone speaks enough English to get by and she's _very_ talented with languages. She can't exactly work right now, though. I think it's driving her a bit mad."

"How much longer until the baby comes?" Scorpius asked.

"A few weeks," Jin said with a grin. "It's a girl."

"That's wonderful," Scorpius said through a yawn.

"Yes, congratulations," James added.

Jin nodded in thanks and gently rolled the scroll back up, placing it with the others. He checked his watch.

"I'm guessing you've been traveling for nearly a day."

"That sounds about right," Scorpius said.

"Do you see that hall?"

Jin pointed down a corridor lined with framed art and both Scorpius and James nodded.

"First door on the right. That's the guest room. There's two beds – I don't want to see either of you until morning."

James and Scorpius exchanged confused glances.

"We were going to get rooms somewhere in town," James said. "We've intruded enough."

Jin struck him with a stern look – the one he'd used when Scorpius would sing to himself while shelving books or ramble on about something he'd found while they constructed _Anglo-Asian Wizarding Relations: 1500 – Present._ It had always silenced Scorpius quickly, as it reminded him of Draco's exasperated expression.

"I won't hear of it," Jin said firmly, settling the matter. "Now go. You both look half-dead."

James and Scorpius got to their feet, thanking him profusely and dodging the scattered parchment in their way as they headed from the room, dragging their rucksacks along with them.

"Scorpius?"

James walked ahead toward the room and Scorpius paused to see Jin sorting through some loose pages.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Scorpius considered the question for a moment.

"No. But I will be once I know my cousin isn't dying or that we've done all we can."

Jin hummed in response – a noncommittal acknowledgment that told Scorpius he didn't quite buy it.

"I'm going to get these out. We'll know in a few days," Jin assured him. "Now, go get some rest."

Scorpius dragged himself down the hallway, knowing that in the morning he wouldn't remember much of the day. After he and James changed into comfortable clothes and collapsed onto their beds, Scorpius could hear Jin and Naoki rustling parchment and whispering to one another in a language he didn't understand. It was the sound of progress, and it was the most soothing lullaby he could imagine.

* * *

Scorpius woke in the middle of the night to a nightmare he hadn't had before. Normally they were all variations on the same things – Delphi, Daphne, Dementors and isolation – but this one was fresh and particularly jarring. When he woke, he could still hear Albus' voice yelling at him as he left their home, vowing never to return.

He stared at the ceiling for a long time, panting and cold as James snored on, oblivious to any distress, until he couldn't stand the quiet anymore and got up, putting on his glasses and saying a silent prayer that Jin and Naoki kept milk in the house. He grabbed his wand and left as quietly as possible, heading back down toward the hall.

After getting a mug of milk and warming it with a quick spell, Scorpius stood in the kitchen and looked out the window. They were somewhere off the Mahoutokoro island, but seemed to be in a relatively quiet area. The next house was barely visible in the distance with a long field of green grass between them. A breeze rustled the blades, making them shimmer in the moonlight.

Scorpius heard a rustling from behind a door leading off the kitchen. It sounded like paper and the scratch of a quill, followed by the telltale chatter of a typewriter. He carefully nudged the door open and found that the Eisukes had converted their garage into a study of sorts, lined with books and with a large wooden table that was now covered in the things he'd brought.

Jin caught the movement and looked up, quill between his teeth.

"Everything okay?" he asked, muffled.

"Couldn't sleep." Scorpius shrugged and raised his mug. "Warm glass of milk usually helps."

Jin gestured him out and Scorpius closed the door gingerly behind himself before joining him at the table.

"I sent most of it off earlier," Jin said. "I'm assuming you just showed up here because you didn't go through the proper channels to remove the articles?"

"You assume correctly." Scorpius settled onto the stool across the table from Jin. "I panicked, to be honest. James panicked too and it kind of..."

"Escalated?" Jin guessed. Scorpius shrugged. "And James said you found out about your cousin a little over a week ago?"

Scorpius nodded, sipping his milk. He could still hear Albus' voice shouting at him in the back of his mind. He looked at the clock on the wall and tried not to imagine how quiet the house would feel for Albus now. He failed.

"So you gathered all of this in a week?" Jin gestured across the table in a sweeping gesture.

"I don't sleep much."

"Why isn't Albus here with you?"

Scorpius set his mug down. "I didn't know I was going to be interrogated."

"Scorpius," Jin warned. "I spent months working with you eight hours a day, five days a week. I can tell when you're lying."

"What am I lying about?"

"You didn't do this in a week," Jin said. "This is months of work. At least two."

"I told you. I didn't sleep and I was highly motivated."

Jin narrowed his eyes at him, standing from his seat. Scorpius was taller than a lot of people he knew – Jin included – but with him staring at him like that with his dark eyes and the beginning of a sneer, Scorpius nearly shuddered. He looked up to Jin and thought of him as a mentor and a friend, and he felt scolded and small.

"Your friend, James –"

"Future brother-in-law," Scorpius corrected, fidgeting with the drawstring of his joggers. "We're not friends. James isn't my biggest fan, but he's in love with my cousin so here we are."

"Fine. Your future brother-in-law. He might not know how long this would take," Jin said. "But I do. And I also know you're going to lose your job for removing archive articles. You might even face legal action."

"It's worth it if it helps Ainsley," Scorpius said.

"You have it too, don't you?"

Scorpius stared down into his mug and didn't answer.

"That's why Albus isn't here – or your father, for that matter. You didn't tell them and that's why you wanted these translated as quickly as possible – because they'd figure it out and you didn't want to wait on permits you weren't sure you'd get."

"Congratulations," Scorpius muttered, hunched over in his seat. He drew his sleeve down around his hand, twisting it between his fingers.

Jin swore, stepping back from the table.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because my dad would have kept me in a bubble. And Albus was away at that magizoology program and I didn't want him to come home for me and I know he would have."

"You were researching it yourself?"

Scorpius nodded, staring at an indistinct point on the cabinets behind his friend and clutching his mug so hard he feared it might break. He took a deep breath to rein in his frustration. He couldn't afford to damage even a corner of one of these scrolls and had to maintain control. Electricity buzzed in his ears.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, furious. "You should have gone to someone. Have you even seen a healer? For Merlin's sake, you could have called me!"

"I was scared," Scorpius whispered, and Jin deflated at once. "Imagine you realize you're about to die the same slow, agonizing death your mother did. I spent every minute I could with her, Jin. I know what I'm in for. I just wanted a little more time without the sadness and the pity… I wanted to spend more time with Albus without him worried every time I coughed or caught a cold or touched a book because I _might_ get a paper cut. So I didn't tell anyone and I did all of this," Scorpius pointed at a stack of parchment. "It made me feel better. I had a plan of how to go through the shelves and sections, but I didn't have anything beyond that. I didn't know what I'd do once I'd touched everything or who I'd ask for help or if I'd even bother, because you and I both know the odds of there being a counter curse in here are slim to none."

Jin opened his mouth to protest, but Scorpius shook his head, wrapping his arms tight around himself.

"But then it was Ainsley too. And I see her a few times a week and I figure if I didn't notice she was affected, then maybe no one else had figured it out about me. So I started digging harder and I knew I'd have to contact you. Then there was just _so much_ , and James was panicked too, so now we're here, disrupting your life."

"First, you're not disrupting anything," Jin corrected firmly. "Second, that sounds awful, and I can't imagine what this has been like for you. Third – and don't hold me to this – I think there might actually be something here."

"Are you serious?"

Jin nodded and handed him a few typed pages from beside the typewriter. Scorpius surveyed them. They were a detailed description of a curse that caused symptoms like his own – bruising, bleeding, and an eventual loss of immunity.

"Do you think your 'alternative powers' are a symptom?"

"I hadn't considered that," Scorpius said. He pondered it for a moment. His mother hadn't been especially powerful, and while Ainsley was brilliant at charms and transfiguration, she wasn't so talented that it was alarming. Daphne had drawn her energy from her insanity – not some deep well of magic within her.

"I don't think so," he said finally. "No one else I know on the Greengrass side is… well, a freak. But doing any kind of wandless magic hurts like hell."

"How so?"

"Well, you know how when you manage a spell for the first time – that warm feeling in your fingers?"

Jin nodded, grabbing a quill and pulling a notebook near. Scorpius noticed the top of the page read "symptoms", and there was already a substantial list. He cringed.

"Well, before, once I figured it out, it kind of felt like a gentle tug. Now it's just painful. It always felt different from when I used a wand – less thought, more intention and feeling – but now it's distinctly unpleasant."

Jin added that to the list.

"I need you to tell me everything else," Jin said. "Everything you _didn't_ say in front of James."

Scorpius took a long drink from his mug and pulled his wand from his pocket, setting it on the table. He wasn't going to make it back to bed any time soon.

* * *

Albus usually found it difficult to be angry when his father was making breakfast. Normally, Harry was so busy that everyone had cereal before rushing out the door, but today he'd made an exception and was making waffles – one of Albus' favorites – but even that wasn't enough to get him to uncross his arms and stop scowling.

"I'm certain Scorpius and James had their reasons," Ginny said. Albus turned his ire towards her and she sighed, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms as well. "I don't know, Albus."

"They left," he said for the millionth time. "They _left_ a couple days ago. Whatever it is that Scorpius thinks he has – if it even warranted running off across the world – they could have waited. I was less than 48 hours away."

"How do you think I feel?" Ginny asked. "James didn't even tell us anything beyond Ainsley's illness. We got a letter, just like you."

"Was Ainsley waiting for you with it? Did she give you the pity-look when she gave it to you?"

"Er, no," Harry chimed in, levitating a finished waffle onto a plate before sending it floating over to Albus with a wave of his wand. "Actually, we got Draco. A very angry Draco who at once demanded I devote the entire Ministry to locating his son, which is entirely illegal. Scorpius clearly left of his own volition and he's an adult. I told him as much and I'm not entirely sure he's speaking to me now."

Albus looked at the plate – it smelled so warm and sweet – and was tempted to let himself be cheered just a bit by his parents… but no. That wouldn't do. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

"So all we can do is wait?"

"Well, the way Draco puts it – they're just trying to see if there's a counter curse," Harry said, placing a plate in front of Ginny before sitting between his wife and Albus. "It is important, Albus. I can see why they wouldn't want to wait."

"I'm not saying it's not important!" Albus cried. "I'm saying I could have helped! He could have waited. They both could have – even if she weren't Scorpius' cousin, she's still James' girlfriend and _my_ friend. I would have helped. I _want_ to help."

Unable to resist any longer, Albus unfurled himself and poured syrup onto his waffle before aggressively cutting it into pieces. Ginny and Harry exchanged worried glances and Albus pretended not to notice as he took a huge bite to quell his growling stomach.

"Albus, do you think maybe you're not mad?" Ginny asked. Albus froze and stared at her, syrup dripping down his chin.

"I'm pretty sure I'm mad," he said, mouth full.

"Maybe you're… well, maybe you're more hurt than angry?"

Albus thought about that for a second, taking a painful swallow.

"Nope. I'm just angry," he lied. Ginny looked ready to argue but was (thankfully) interrupted by the ringing of Harry's mobile phone. He dug it out form his pocket and examined it, squinting at the small text.

"It's James."

"Make it loud," Ginny demanded. Harry set the phone on the table and tapped it a few times until James' voice came through loud and clear.

"Dad? Are you there?"

"We're here!" Ginny cried.

"Ah, mum! You don't have to yell," came James' voice. Ginny had never adjusted to some of the muggle technology after the misguided teachings of her father.

"You can talk like normal, Gin," Harry said, patting her arm sympathetically. "He can still hear you."

"Sorry." Ginny sheepishly took Harry's hand and looked back at the phone.

Albus leaned into the table, shoving his plate aside.

"Is Scorpius there?" Albus demanded. "Put him on."

"I can't mate," James said. "He wanted to talk to you, but every time he got near the phone it started acting up, and you know I can barely use this damn thing to begin with."

Albus resumed scowling immediately and threw himself back against his chair, folding his arms again.

"Er, James – what's going on?"

"Scorpius had a bunch of materials that seem to be relevant to blood curses and counter curses," James began. "We brought them to his friend who's an expert on the time period and he's sent them off to be translated last night. By the beginning of the week we should have all of it."

"Beginning of the week?" Albus snapped. "It's Tuesday."

"Albus," Ginny warned softly.

"I know," James said. His protective and comforting tone only irked Albus more. "It's going to take a week to get everything back, but there might _actually_ be a counter curse."

"That's excellent news," Harry said earnestly. "I just wish you would have told us before taking off."

"I'm sorry," James said, and Albus almost believed he meant it. "I really am."

James began explaining why they hadn't – about how the materials needed translation and how they needed to talk to experts. He talked about how Scorpius hadn't wanted to wait for permits and Albus almost thought he sounded proud. After a moment he tuned James' voice out and stabbed at his waffle as Zar rolled around under the table, batting at his ankle with his massive paw.

_At least the dog is happy to see me,_ Albus thought. His voice sounded bitter even in his own mind.

While Harry and James chatted, Albus heard a rustling from the living room. Lily walked in with a suitcase in hand, and he greeted her with a wave.

“Ooh, waffles,” Lily said. She set her things down by the wall and slid into the seat next to Albus before seizing his fork and taking the last bite of his breakfast. Normally, he would have fought her, but he was so glad to see her that he didn't much care as she sat down on his lap like she had as a child and commandeered half his breakfast.

“Is that James?” she asked through a full mouth. Harry nodded and Lily and James exchanged greetings.

“I can’t believe they just ran off like that,” Lily said to Albus. “I was in Paris, but I talked to mum this morning. What the hell is going on?”

“I have no idea,” Albus said honestly. “I just got home, so I know as much as you do.”

Lily pursed her lips and looked back to the phone as James began assuring Ginny that everything was just fine and he and Scorpius were perfectly safe.

“Come on,” Lily said. She grabbed Albus’ hand and tugged at him until he followed her outside onto the front porch. She made a beeline for the massive porch swing that had hung in the corner overlooking the field for as long as Albus could remember. She patted the seat beside her and Albus took it, pushing them back as hard as he could to give the swing some momentum.

They sat in silence for several minutes, staring out across the bright summer field that led to the forest. It was barely past nine o’clock, but the humidity was already starting to rise, promising another hot June day.

“Why were you in Paris?” Albus asked after a moment.

“I was getting the paperwork for Madam Malkin’s to open up a new shop there,” Lily said. “Funny, isn’t it? Me being good at business?”

“Are you sure it’s business and not just you liking clothes?” Albus teased.

“I admit that it is a perk,” Lily conceded. “But I’m just really good at negotiating.”

“Probably because James and I fought so much as children. You watched mom deal with it.”

Lily gave him a sad smile, her eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay, Al?”

Albus sighed and leaned back. Lily tapped her wand against the arm of the swing, charming it to stay in motion, and drew her legs up beneath her. She watched him, waiting patiently for a reply.

“No,” Albus said honestly. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because I came home and Scorpius was gone. Because Ainsley is sick. Because my brother and my fiancé couldn’t be bothered to wait for me before rushing off to the other side of the world.”

“I think you get to be mad and upset,” Lily said. “But I saw James last week after he learned about Ainsley and... well, it was scary.”

“Of course it’s scary. She’s sick. She’s dying.”

“No, I mean _James_ was scary,” Lily corrected. “He’s so frightened and I bet Scorpius is too. Think of the pressure.”

Albus sighed and looked down at his hands, tracing over a small scar on his palm with his index finger.

“I know,” Albus said. “If it were you, I would have done the same thing.”

“I’m mad too,” Lily said. “You know I would have helped if I’d been in the loop. I love James and Scorpius is great - but he’s also great at what he does and _this_ is what he does. You know what a geek he is.”

Albus grinned in spite of himself. He _did_ know what a geek Scorpius was and this was one of the few times he’d been able to apply his skills to something truly important. He wouldn't have been able to restrain himself.

“They’re just doing what they think they have to,” Lily said.

“Seems like there’s something more to it.” Albus shook his head and looked out at the trees. “I saw Ainsley yesterday. It seems like she’s not telling me something but I can’t put my finger on why I think that.”

“She might be more ill than we realized,” Lily guessed. “She’s got to be terrified.”

“Merlin, I know,” Albus groaned, rubbing his face. “I can’t imagine. And I can’t imagine what James is feeling. If it were Scorpius I don’t know what I’d do.”

"They both love you," Lily said. "It isn't about you, so don't make it about you."

"This from the girl who thought the New Year's fireworks were for her birthday."

"Hey!" Lily cried in mock offense. "It's not my fault they put the start of the calendar so close to my birthday."

Albus laughed and Lily seemed proud of herself, so when she settled her head against his shoulder, he was happy to wrap his arm around her and sit in companionable silence.

They sat quietly until a faint pop of apparation echoed in from the distance and a faint, momentary buzzing told them someone had crossed the protective wards onto the Potters' property.

"Ten galleons says it's Uncle Ron come to get the latest gossip," Lily said.

"Ten galleons says it's Draco come to yell at dad some more," Albus countered. They shook on it and watched down the long path that disappeared over the hill.

They didn't have to wait for the figure to come into focus. Draco Malfoy's platinum hair was identifiable from kilometers away. Lily swore and Albus smirked at his sole triumph of the day.

"Albus," Draco said as he approached. "I'm quite glad to see you."

"You too," Albus said, unwinding himself from Lily and standing to greet his future father-in-law. Draco clapped him on the shoulder in greeting after stepping up onto the porch. He was clad in all-black again and appeared to be either coming or going somewhere quite formal.

"I trust you've received a letter as well."

"Oh, yes," Albus assured him. "I'm up-to-date on all the proceedings."

They exchanged looks or irritation before Draco forced a smile for Lily.

"Lily, it's good to see you," Draco said. "You look lovely as ever."

"Only because I just got home," Lily said with a laugh. "I'll be in my pajamas in ten minutes."

"I'd expect no less." Draco looked to Albus again. "I need to talk to your father, and you need to hear this."

"Lovely," Albus said sarcastically. He opened the door and ushered Draco inside.

When they got to the kitchen, Ginny and Harry were still talking to James, who seemed to be in good spirits. Draco and Harry exchanged strained glances – an indication of their last conversation – but Draco sank into the free chair at the table next to Harry regardless.

"What's going on?" James asked at the sudden silence.

"Draco just came in," Ginny said.

Draco offered a blanket greeting of "Potters," and folded his hands on the table.

"What's going on, Draco?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Someone spotted Ainsley at Saint Mungo's when she went in for a checkup with Dania." Draco looked from Harry to Ginny, as if asking for help. "The records are confidential, so I'm not sure how they got leaked to the press, but they did and a story ran in this morning's _Prophet_ about Ainsley and the curse."

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered.

"That, right on the heels of Scorpius' little incident in Flourish and Blotts –" Albus cringed, "doesn’t look particularly good for the Malfoys."

"What are they saying?"

"Oh, just incoherent mutterings of how I clearly did something awful to my first wife," Draco said in a leisurely tone, running his finger around the rim of the sugar bowl as if he couldn't care less. "Something that may or may not be Voldemort-related, and that sweet Ainsley Greengrass is now a victim to the dark magic that surrounds the Malfoys and I've passed my horrible ways down onto my son. It's just gossip around the Ministry now – nothing further has been printed, but it's only a matter of time."

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes and Albus sank into the chair beside Draco. Whatever sliver of optimism his parents had managed to grow was crushed for Albus.

"People can't just get away with things like that, can they?" Lily was indignant. "Anyone who knows the Malfoys would surely say something."

"But that's just it," Ginny said. "The Ministry can't regulate gossip and not many people _do_ know the Malfoys, do they? It's not your fault, Draco," she added quickly. "But after the war people just sort of steered clear. So the rumors have run wild."

Albus looked at Draco. "And all this and the bookstore accident have done is bring it all back up again."

"Oh, it gets better," Draco assured them. He swallowed hard, hesitating on his next words. "The Magical Archives of Britain have launched a formal inquiry into the sudden disappearance of several collection items _and_ one of their junior scholars. I suppose that since you've taken the day off, you haven't seen the report on the theft."

Harry and Draco held each other's gaze for a long moment. Albus looked between them, his tired mind taking a moment to catch up.

"Wait, they're investigating _Scorpius_?" Albus said, outraged. "Over some moldy books?"

"Moldy books that he technically stole," Draco corrected. He gave Albus a sympathetic smile. "There's no denying it."

"Have they pressed charges?" Harry asked slowly. Albus knew his father was choosing his words carefully to stay within the boundaries of his job.

"Not yet," Draco explained. "But it won't be long. And right now I don't have much clout with the Ministry or the wizarding community at-large. I can't exactly show up with a sack of gold to cover the damages and call it a day."

"But it's _Scorpius,_ " Albus protested. "Have they _met_ him? He's kept every letter I've ever written him in perfect condition. Of course he isn't going to damage anything he took."

"That's not the point, Albus," Ginny said gently. "The point is that he took them without permission. It's a theft and once they press charges it's public domain and the press will see. That, on top of Ainsley –"

"On top of the bookstore…" Albus started to understand. None of this was looking good at all, and Scorpius could be facing legal consequences – dire ones – all to help his cousin. He instantly felt guilty for being angry with Scorpius (though he was still a bit cross) and felt a rush of affection for his fiancé. Using his brain and rushing off to find answers to a problem threatening someone he loved was the most Scorpius-like course of action Albus could imagine.

Albus looked at his father knowingly. "Do you think you can use some of your 'Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world' charm?"

Harry sighed, looking between Draco and Albus. "I don't know, but I will try. Isn't the archive director one of the Bagshots?"

Draco nodded. "I believe so."

Harry nodded, chewing on his lip and thinking for a moment. "I'll see what I can do there."

"Is Ainsley okay?" James asked. "Is she with you? Can I talk to her?"

"She's at home right now," Draco said. "I convinced her to stay home from work today."

Albus heard his brother sigh on the other end of the line. He didn't need to see James to know that he was rubbing the pressure point between his eyes just the way their father was in front of him.

"Okay. Well, tell her that we're fine and that everything is going to be okay."

Draco paused, drumming his fingers against the table.

"Is everything going to be okay, James?"

"I certainly hope so," James sighed. "I have to go. I think they're calling me for dinner."

"Stay safe," Ginny said quickly. "We love you."

"Love you too, mum," said James. There was a muffled, far off cry from the other end of the line, and James laughed.

"Albus, Scorpius would like you to know that he loves you. I think he was listening from the other side of the wall."

Albus smirked. "Tell him I love him too but that I'm furious with him."

"Oh, he knows."

* * *

After a week in Japan, Scorpius was certain of several things. He knew he hated plum wine, that the wizarding community in Japan was far more lax than the one in Britain, and that he would have to bring Albus here someday because Albus _loved_ sushi and now that Scorpius knew the restaurants in London were good-but-not-the-best, he felt morally obligated.

He thought about all of those things while standing over a table of typed and scribbled translated notes as Jin talked with his colleagues in languages Scorpius didn't understand while they looked over all of the documents they'd sifted through. He rocked back and forth on his heels, fidgeting and nervous while trying not to aggravate the bruises he'd earned on yesterday's trip to the market. He'd gone alone, trying to take some of the strain off Naoki who had taken such good care of them that he was sure she was practicing for when her child arrived.

For more than an hour Jin talked with the other professors while two scholars from Tokyo listened, their faces looming in the nearby fireplace. Scorpius caught bits and pieces – sentence fragments uttered in English and the few Japanese words he knew – while they talked, but he didn't have the heart to let his curiosity get the better of him. These people – complete strangers – had taken time out of their lives to help solve a centuries-old puzzle to save a girl they didn't even know back in England. He'd let them talk and do as he was told.

One by one, they left, having offered all they had – an old wizard with entirely white hair and impossibly tanned and wrinkled skin, a young witch whose blazing yellow eyes were both off-putting and beautiful, a middle-aged wizard who had checked his watch at least fifty times during the meeting.

Scorpius stood dutifully at the corner of the table, waiting and wondering, momentarily wishing he'd stayed at Jin's house like James had to help Naoki clean since she wasn't very nimble so close to having a baby.

It wasn't until it was only Jin and the Mahoutokoro  potions master left that Scorpius dared touch anything on the table, littered with notes in both Japanese and English.

"I do apologize," the potions master said. "Some of our colleagues aren't fluent in English, and thus the common language prevailed."

"Scorpius, this is Kida Fumihiko," Jin said, running his finger down a piece of parchment as though he were checking items.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Scorpius said politely. "If you don't mind me asking… was there anything there that could be useful?"

"That's contingent on two things," Kida said. "One is whether or not we've identified the type of curse correctly based on the symptoms and scant history."

"Okay."

"The second," Jin said, rubbing the back of his neck, "is whether or not this potion recipe applies directly to the type of curse we identified."

"Tengan – the wizard in the blue robes that just left?" Scorpius nodded to Kida. "He searched back and back until he found the direct Latin translation –"

"Which is terribly basic," Jin added.

"Sanguinem maledicta," Kida said.

"Cursed blood?" Scorpius asked blankly. "Seriously, that's what it's called? I could have come up with a better name as a toddler. Who's in charge of these things?"

"It's more complex than that. The term applies to a very specific curse where the blood fails the cursed individual over time," Jin explained. "It's the only one we found in this –" He pointed to a dilapidated book that Scorpius hadn't even been sure was relevant, "that covers everything you've described. It's a grimoire of old curses – a list of them."

Scorpius swallowed hard, staring at the black faded cover. He'd nearly left it behind.

"So we cross-referenced," Kida said. "And I do think there's a very good chance that this potion recipe might address the problem."

A grin spread across Scorpius' face so fast that he was sure his lips would bleed.

Jin spoke quickly. "There's a catch."

Scorpius' grin faded quickly. Of course there was a catch.

"Not only are some of these potions ingredients exceedingly rare," Jin said. "You're also going to need a bit of a descendant of the person who cursed your family."

The grin fell away entirely.

"What?"

"The curse is designed with _intent_ ," Jin explained. "It all has to do with why the person cursed your ancestor. Of course, we can't explain why it shows up in some people and not others because we don't know why – it's different for every family."

Scorpius looked between them, helpless. He'd already volunteered every bit of information he had – every bit of information his mother, his grandparents, and his father had been able to volunteer. None of it had any indication of who had cursed Abel Gringras.

"Blood will work best," Kida said. "Blood of the ancestor, I mean. Blood to undo blood."

"It doesn't call for much," Jin added. "Like a polyjuice potion. You could probably get away with hair but –"

"I'll never find out who cursed them," Scorpius said. He sank, boneless, into a nearby chair they'd kicked away from the table for space. "How on earth –"

"Scorpius, you're a historian," Jin scolded. "You're better than this."

Scorpius looked up at him through his smudged glasses and watched, feeling quite empty and entirely lost, as Jin removed his gloves and tossed them onto the table.

"You said the Gringras family was quite the name in the 1600s?"

"Well, that's what I was told."

"And that they'd just immigrated from France, correct?"

"Within the century, I think, but the records are vague. Albus barely…"

Scorpius shook his head. Albus had shown him the faded register where he'd seen "Gringras, Annesley," the night he, Draco and Harry had found where Daphne had stowed Scorpius during his short-lived kidnapping. Scorpius had dug for more information after seeing it, but came up empty handed.

"You know that Germany has one of the most comprehensive libraries of family records for the whole of Europe," Jin reminded him. "It's a massive index. You can get the names there – probably the names of the people who worked on the estate if they were wizards."

"I suppose," Scorpius said weakly.

"And then you can search the index they keep in Berlin of all the items in each archive across Europe and in America."

"Well, yes."

"Just follow the threads," Jin said. "Somewhere someone must have written something down – in an old journal, in a newspaper, or in some old book that hasn't been touched for fifty years. Some distant relative could have made a note on a family tree or it could have been part of an obituary."

Jin was standing over him now. Scorpius wondered if he knew how imposing his methods of encouragement could be. He expected it was what made him such a good teacher.

"There has to be _something_ , Scorpius." Jin smiled down at Scorpius and offered a hand to help him back to his feet. "Lucky for Ainsley that you know exactly how to look for that something."

* * *

Help was James repacking the briefcase while Scorpius slept off his exhaustion.

Encouragement was Jin patting them both on the back as they left the next morning, the connection map leading to Berlin in James' back pocket.

Love was the way Harry, Draco and Albus had promised to seek out all of the potions ingredients when James called with Scorpius listening from beyond the door, promising to have as much as they could and not asking for more information they knew Scorpius didn't have.

Devotion was Albus promising to procure a Chimera egg – a Class A non-tradeable material – and Harry promising to turn a blind eye.

Kindness was the vials of blood-replenishing and pepperup potions Naoki had prepared and slipped in Scorpius rucksack when James wasn't looking.

Scorpius waved back at them when they crossed the wards around their house and James took his arm. He turned on the spot and they disapparated.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming soon:**  
>  Scorpius and Albus talk.  
> Albus' salt levels increase.  
> Ainsley gets an unexpected visitor.  
> Draco makes a surprising offer.  
> Scorpius and James face a faceless evil.
> 
> Also, special thanks to [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for reading this over for me, and to [@amusicalgryffinclaw](https://amusicalgryffinclaw.tumblr.com/) for reading the first 12 chapters for errors (which I'll be fixing soon).


	14. Guardian

"Albus, if you're not careful your face is going to freeze that way," Draco murmured over his tea cup. Albus' scowl only intensified momentarily before he took another sip of his own drink. He'd added copious amounts of honey and had indulged in far too many of the sweet biscuits Pike had provided in lieu of a proper lunch, and still everything tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Well, tell your son that my face is in danger of becoming a permanent scowl," Albus groaned. Draco sighed and set his tea aside delicately with one hand, as the other was occupied with Orion. Albus had been visiting both the Manor and his parents' home daily in the days since his return from Brazil – both to increase his chances of being present when James or Scorpius made contact, but also to avoid the deafening silence of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Not only was it depressing being there alone given the circumstances, but he also felt a fresh wash of guilt at his own reluctance to sleep in the bed alone. He'd left Scorpius to sleep alone there for six months, and yet he couldn't bear to do it for even a day and had taken to sleeping on the sitting room sofa (which was no true hardship, as Draco had spared no expense in purchasing the most comfortable furniture for his son).

"Albus, I'm just as upset as you are," Draco reminded him. Albus doubted that, but gave Draco a small nod anyway, encouraging him to continue. "But whatever's going on – Scorpius and James have their reasons. Do you trust their judgment?"

Albus considered the question. He trusted Scorpius completely, but he also trusted Scorpius to always act in his family's best interests, even to his own detriment.

And James… well, James had never done anything wrong beyond teasing that sometimes went too far, but Albus wasn't quite sure James was who he'd trust with Scorpius' safety if his fiancé insisted upon gallivanting about the world in search of… well, whatever it was he needed to find.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Albus admitted. He was somewhat proud of himself for admitting it too, and for a moment he remembered the Hogwarts library with Scorpius' angry words ringing in his ears, declaring he was _the_ most terrible friend.

_"I just didn't understand. Please."_

Sometimes, Albus needed perspective to be forced upon him.

"I trust Scorpius' judgment," he said finally. "And I trust James too."

"Then we'll just have to wait."

Albus didn't need to be reminded of that. The dead weight of the muggle mobile in his pocket was enough. James had insisted he keep it with him during a brief conversation with Harry, which was enough to keep Albus on edge. James didn't often say things like "just in case." He was certain it wouldn't ring – neither James nor Scorpius seemed particularly keen on talking to him.

"Do you have a plan for that Chimaera egg?" Draco asked cautiously.

"I do," Albus said.

"Is it going to be a problem?"

Albus gave Draco a wry look. Chimaera eggs were carefully monitored Class A Non-Tradeable Materials and were very difficult to come by, and James was very clear when he'd read off the complicated potions recipe that the Chimaera egg was vital.

"Of course, it's going to be a problem," Albus said. "They're highly illegal, volatile materials and Chimaeras are rare and endangered – not to mention violent. I can't just grab one in Knockturn Alley and pop it in the ice box so it'll stay fresh until needed."

Draco sighed, shifting Orion in his arm and kneading the skin between his eyebrows.

"Yes, I know," he sighed in exasperation. "And I know you can't ask your family for help because of your father's job. I just wanted to know if you needed help. I still know people who…"

"The last thing I want you to do is call upon your father's old accomplices," Albus assured him. "Scorpius would never forgive me."

"So, what are you going to do?" Draco asked. "I've already got half the shops in Hogsmeade ordering ingredients from halfway around the world, but it's useless without the Chimaera egg."

"I know. I'll get it sorted. Don't worry."

Albus and Draco fell into an unhappy silence, staring into the fireplace while Draco rocked his son gently, until Dania swept into the room, her Healer's robes draped over her arm.

"I'll be back before dark," she assured Draco. She walked over to where they sat and gave him a quick kiss before looking down to Orion.

"How is Ainsley?" Draco asked. "Did you check on her?"

"I did. She's asleep for now but said she'll be checking in at the Ministry this afternoon, so wake her in an hour or so," Dania said. "Her condition seems to be holding steady."

Albus watched as Draco gave her a small smile of thanks, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit as he watched his wife kiss their son's forehead.

"I'll be back soon," she promised Orion softly and Albus felt a pang of longing. He'd gotten ahead of himself during his last weeks in Brazil imagining his future with a full family that belonged to only himself and Scorpius. He felt very detached from that daydream now, though he kept reminding himself that nothing had changed – they were still getting married.

Dania ruffled Albus' hair kindly – Albus wanted to be irritated but it's not like she could mess it up any worse – and left for work, leaving him alone with Draco and Orion once more.

"Where are they now?" Albus asked after a moment. He knew damn well where James and Scorpius were, but needed to hear it again.

"Your father talked to James last night and they said they were still in Germany," Draco said. "But that they wouldn't be there long."

Albus sighed, looking at his hands. It was always _we won't be here long. Don't come, because we'll be gone before you get here_. No specifics were given, though Albus had reason to suspect they were in Berlin.

"Of course, they won't," Albus grumbled.

* * *

Scorpius' eyes were burning by the time he and James returned to the small, cheap hotel room they'd rented in muggle Berlin. He tossed his messenger bag onto the single, spindly chair as James fell into his twin bed, cradling the bag of take-out they'd grabbed on the way back from the Bibliothek der Zauberer – the wizarding library of Berlin. Scorpius watched as he wrinkled his nose, pulling out the wrapped schnitzel.

James immediately looked comfortable, and Scorpius was beginning to wonder if he could be at-ease anywhere. Scorpius found himself envying not only James' good health, but his adaptability as well.

"We should have left earlier so we could have gotten a decent meal," James said before biting into it. "We've only had this stuff for days."

"Sorry," Scorpius apologized, though he wasn't in the least bit guilty. The extra hour they'd remained in the room full of old family trees and newspapers had given Scorpius some valuable information – a list of witches and wizards that lived in the broader Nottinghamshire region around the time the Gringras family had been prominent. James had even found a single reference to Abel – but nothing that would lead them to finding out who'd cursed him and why.

Still, it was a start.

James held the paper bag out to him but Scorpius shook his head. He couldn't think about eating when his head hurt so bad and his eyes burned. He rubbed them under the lenses of his glasses.

"Have you talked to anyone today?" Scorpius asked.

"I talked to dad," James told him through a mouthful of schnitzel. "Said they're getting all those potions ingredients. Thank God for these muggle phones because it would have taken forever by owl post."

Scorpius sighed and sat down on the edge of his creaky twin bed.

"I wish I could use them," Scorpius admitted. "I'd really like to talk to Albus."

"I'm not sure you want to, mate," James said. "He's pretty mad."

Scorpius shook his head sadly. He knew Albus was angry and he had every right to be, but that didn't change that Scorpius missed him terribly. He'd gotten so used to having Albus near when he was upset that finding himself far away from home, achy, and scared without him felt nearly as traumatic as being tortured.

"I know he is. But I'd still like to."

James chewed thoughtfully, kicking off his trainers and letting them fall to the floor beside the bed.

"You know, I saw a really old looking muggle payphone outside," James said. "They're not quite as complicated – maybe you can use one of those?"

Scorpius stood straightened immediately at the prospect of talking to Albus.

"You think?"

"It's possible. Here –" James dug a small notepad he'd been using to jot down important names and figures and pulled out his mobile. After a moment, he wrote down a series of numbers and ripped out the page, handing it to Scorpius. "Try that. Worst thing that could happen is it just doesn't work."

James dug in his pocket again and handed Scorpius a handful of Euro coins, dumping them into Scorpius' palm while giving vague directions to the phone booth.

"Thanks," Scorpius muttered before grabbing his key off the windowsill and heading out without further conversation. The old wooden stairs creaked beneath his feet, and Scorpius tried not to pay too much attention to how scuffed his shoes had become. It was bad enough that he found himself re-wearing some of his clothes, but if his father were to see the state of his shoes, he'd be ashamed.

Scorpius stepped out into the balmy night with purpose, unbuttoning the top of his wrinkled cotton shirt and taking the three turns James had outlined and ignoring everything he passed. He'd had a bit of luck today and he prayed it would hold out just a bit longer.

Finally, he saw it sitting down a quiet sidewalk between two relatively deserted pubs. The late hour had sent many of the locals home as it was a week night, and Scorpius only saw a few groups of people sitting outside, laughing and talking with their tankards in hand.

Scorpius slipped into the booth and closed the door firmly behind himself. He'd seen something similar when he'd used the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic once, but he'd never had occasion to use one for an actual call. It took him a minute to negotiate the coins and the dial, and a minute longer to read James' handwriting and decipher the number, but once he did he was so pleased to hear ringing on the other end of the line that his knees felt weak.

"Hello?"

Albus' voice came through the waves of static and Scorpius laughed in relief, resting his head against the grimy Plexiglas of the booth.

"Hey. It's me."

"Scorpius?"

"I-I tried again yesterday to use one of the other phones, but it stopped working," Scorpius explained. "James thought one of the muggle payphones might work."

"Is that what you're using?"

"Yeah," Scorpius confirmed, his voice shaky. "Where are you? _How_ are you?"

"I'm at my mum and dad's," Albus said. "Just sitting outside."

Scorpius closed his eyes and tried to picture Albus on the porch swing, drinking a Butterbeer after dark as he often did.

"You're cross with me," Scorpius said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, yes," Albus said sharply. Scorpius swallowed hard. He'd convinced himself that he was prepared for Albus' anger, but hearing it in his voice made it far more real.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm really sorry."

"Tell me where you are," Albus said. "I can be there in hours, Scorpius."

"We're leaving here soon," Scorpius said quickly. He'd rehearsed the lie but it was true. They'd exhausted their efforts here and would be moving on to Switzerland to track down a retired expert in wizard genealogy, and then be going on to France if everything went well. "We're just going to sleep for a few hours and go, but I should be home soon –"

"You've been gone nearly two weeks," Albus said. "Two weeks. What are you doing? What are you finding that you can't wait for me to get there? I can help."

Scorpius listened to Albus' tone, curling the phone cord around his fingers and found that it caused an increase in the static. Albus was less angry than Scorpius had imagined – he'd predicted yelling, or at least a raised voice – but this was somehow worse. Instead, Albus sounded hurt.

"James has been a big help," Scorpius assured him. It was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, so he's more help than I would be?" Albus asked, and continued before Scorpius could defend himself. "Is he? I suppose James was always smarter than me – makes sense that you'd want him there instead."

"Albus, you know that's not true –"

"Then. Let. Me. Help." Albus demanded. "Tell me where you are. I can tell something more is wrong – I'm not _that_ stupid -"

"You know I think you're brilliant, Albus," Scorpius interrupted. "And you _are_ brilliant, but there's no sense in you getting involved if everything is okay."

"For Merlin's sake, Scorpius – my father and I have already spent three days this week meeting with Director Bagshot – you know, your boss? It took us that long to convince her not to press charges against you. I had to tell her all about our little adventure and how _you_ , being the _geek_ you are were so respectful when we had to break into Bathilda's house," Albus ranted. Scorpius winced – he knew how much Albus hated talking about their fourth year. "Do you have any idea how hard that was to explain? Dad's idea of course – bringing it home and making it personal, because he was there as well, just sixteen years later. It took every ounce of Potter charm between us – and you know I haven't got much to contribute – to convince her not to have you arrested the moment you set foot back in London – that it was an absolute emergency, and that you'd do anything for your family, and you're _damn_ lucky my father likes you because the director is a strict woman and I don't think it was so much the fact that he's _the_ Harry Potter that calmed her. He's the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and so she trusts his judgment."

"Thank you," Scorpius muttered.

"So, I say again – tell me how to get to where you are."

Scorpius nearly did. Albus' help would be immeasurable even if he didn't lift a finger – he was smart and always thought outside the box. His encouragement was worth his weight in gold, but Scorpius pulled his hands back into his sleeves and felt the somewhat-bloody handkerchief he'd stowed there earlier and it stilled his tongue.

Albus would march him straight home if he knew Scorpius was ill – an idea that made Scorpius' skin crawl.

"I can't," Scorpius whispered. "Please, know that I can't. I miss you so much, Al. Believe me, I wish I were at home with you right now or that you were here with me, but I just… _can't_."

Albus exhaled on the other end of the line, the static nearly masking the sound. There was quiet and a gentle whistling that Scorpius assumed was a breeze cutting across the Potters' front porch and the faint creaking of the swing chains as Albus rocked the bench back and forth.

"Al?"

Albus' voice came quiet and defeated through the receiver. "Draco has a team of healers monitoring Ainsley. I think she's a bit sick of it to be honest."

Scorpius let out a rueful chuckle and took a deep breath to steady himself as Albus continued.

"She's been taking the potions and they say she's got plenty of time. And I saw your father and Orion earlier today."

"How is Orion?"

"Adorable. He vomited on Draco's favorite jacket today," Albus said. Scorpius could hear his smile, so when a female voice came on the line asking for more coins, he fed the phone every bit of muggle money James had given him. He sank down to the somewhat-grimy floor of the phone booth, clutching the receiver with both hands.

"Tell me more," he pled. "Please?"

"About what?"

"Anything, Al. Just keep talking to me," Scorpius begged. Albus paused on the other end, and Scorpius heard the creak of the swing again.

"Well," Albus began. "I had to sign up for the Chimaera Care Team today."

Scorpius let his head rest against his knees, blocking out every sound other than Albus' voice. It was easier than he remembered, or maybe it was the faint, nagging idea that had taken root in the back of his mind – that his days might be numbered and he was wasting them chasing a cure that didn't exist. At worst, he still had years, but Scorpius wasn't delusional. He could live to any age and on the day he died he'd still be wishing for more time, just as his mother had.

His focus narrowed in on Albus' words – his amazement that they'd let him on the team and his confidence that he'd be able to nab a couple eggs unnoticed if he was careful. Scorpius hummed and urged him on at all the right places to keep him talking until nearly an hour later when the voice came back, telling him their time was up.

Scorpius told Albus three times that he loved him, just in case other kinds of time were running out too.

* * *

James thanked all the muggle gods that he'd inherited a restless gene from both his parents, as it served him well in times like these. They ventured from Germany to Switzerland chasing a single record, and when Scorpius unearthed allusions to a duel between what _may_ have been a Gringras family member, they started plotting a course for their next destination.

"A poorly kept journal from an apothecary assistant isn't much to go on," Scorpius acknowledged as James filed for their portkey. He held his now-worn notebook tight against his side, fidgeting with one of the loose leather cords from the binding. James had asked him three times if they needed to grab a new one, but Scorpius refused each time.

"Well, at least you're finding some things," James said, handing the application back to the Swiss witch. They were in the heart of Switzerland, in one of their wizarding ministry offices that were scattered throughout the capital. Bern was old and beautiful and he would have found the two days they'd spent there quite pleasant if they hadn't been held up in a library and if he'd been with anyone other than a very fidgety, very anxious Scorpius Malfoy who now jumped at the slightest provocation.

"I know," Scorpius said, his fingers worrying over the binding even more. "It seems like the Gringras family was quite popular."

"Well the other side of your family is too," James said. As they walked away, he caught the witch's eyes lingering, and he hoped desperately that they hadn't been recognized. Scorpius was a bit calmer than he'd been for days, so James neglected to point it out.

"Yes, but the Gringras family was liked for the _right_ reasons," Scorpius said. "They were kind and helped the people in Nottinghamshire. They took responsibility for the people who worked the land. It even looks like they offered magical solutions to things in the guise of miracles or science – whatever worked at the time."

"But they were purebloods," James said as they found a corner near the portkey office to sit in. James threw himself into one of the small lobby armchairs, while Scorpius chose instead to look out the window over the town below.

"They were," he agreed. "But they weren't elitist about it, and it was a big family, so there were a few squibs in the mix but they weren't shunned. There's even one confusing mark on one of the family trees that makes it look like one of Abel's nieces married a muggle man."

James watched as Scorpius thumbed through his notes feverishly, his long fingers working through the pages. He'd be eternally indebted to Scorpius if he managed to help Ainsley, and James truly didn't hold any ill-will toward him, but more and more he was beginning to wonder what Albus saw in Scorpius.

* * *

It had been one of the better days for Ainsley. Her energy hadn't started to wane until very late in the day, and by then she was contentedly seated behind her desk in her small office, shuffling paperwork and checking in with her colleagues. They had been remarkably understanding of her new "limitations" (though she cringed every time someone used that word) and had helped keep her case files updated on the days she was only able to stay for a few hours.

But this case, Ainsley felt, was worth staying a bit late for, even if she was tired.

Across from her sat a muggle woman named Sara, who had a remarkably relieved but somber look on her face and on the seat beside her sat a baby carrier. Sara rocked it gently, watching as Ainsley filled out a last bit of paperwork and closed the file.

"Well, that's everything we need you to sign. My supervisor already stamped everything," Ainsley assured her. She folded her hands and considered the carrier where a 6-month-old baby boy slept soundly.

"Thank you for making the process so smooth," Sara muttered.

This was the hardest part of her job and Ainsley always did her best not to shy away from it. In this case, Sara was a young muggle woman who had a relationship with a wizard. It had been brief and intense, and when Sara told the young man she was pregnant he disappeared without telling her what he was. A ministry worker had been sent to speak with her about the possibilities of having a magical child, and Sara had several months to decide what to do if her child was born a wizard. About a month before the baby was born, Ainsley was assigned to her case, and Sara had told her that if her son was wizard, she wanted to give him up to a family that could care for him and teach him all the things she couldn't.

"Some of my best friends are muggleborn," Ainsley had explained. "They adapt just fine once they get to Hogwarts. You could keep him."

But Sara had just smiled sadly, her hand on her swollen belly. She was very young – only Ainsley's age – and couldn't care for a baby properly anyway, much less one that had powers she couldn't understand.

"I'm familiar with the family adopting him. They've adopted three other children over the years, but they're all grown now," Ainsley said, looking at the vulnerable woman across from her and keeping her voice soft and gentle. "He's going to be given everything he could ever want or need. They've asked that if you're willing, you stay to meet them when they get here." She consulted her watch, stifling a yawn. "They should be here in ten minutes."

Once again, Sara shook her head. She chanced a look down into the carrier where her son slept. Ainsley thought he looked a great deal like his mother – dark skin and dark eyes with long fingers and a heart-shaped mouth, and she was sure the resemblance wasn't making letting go any easier.

"No," Sara whispered, smoothing the blanket down on her baby. "I think it's best if I don't. I'm so grateful – will you tell them that for me? And tell them to give him a good, strong name."

Sara looked back to Ainsley with tears in her eyes.

"Of course I will."

"I just know that if I stay it will be harder," Sara said. "Letting him go is already hard enough, but I know it's for the best. I'm a waitress. I'd never be able to care for him the way he deserves. Maybe someday I'll have a family – but not yet. And not on my own."

"For what it's worth, I do think you'll be an amazing mother someday. And what you're doing is very brave."

Sara gave her a watery smile before looking back to the sleeping baby one more time. She let out a long, slow exhale and got to her feet. Ainsley stood too – her legs a bit shaky at first – and walked around the desk to her.

"If he ever wants to find you, the ministry will assist him in locating you," Ainsley assured her. Sara nodded, folding her coat over her arm. She reached to pick up the tote of baby things out of habit, but paused and withdrew her hand, looking a bit lost but still certain.

"Thank you for all of your help, Ainsley," Sara said.

"Of course. The wizard outside will take you back to the exit. I know it's a maze in here."

Sara gave a half-hearted laugh and wiped the tears from under her eyes, nodding.

"That it is," she said. She sighed and moved toward the door, looking back to the baby one more time. She whispered "good luck" before pulling the door open and slipping through it as quickly as possible.

Ainsley sighed and sagged into the side of her desk, listening to the wizard greet her and usher her along. Ainsley had specifically requested Macmillan be there to escort Sara. He was the best Obliviator in the ministry, and Ainsley felt bad enough being unable to tell Sara that her memory would be modified after she surrendered her child. At least Macmillan was skilled enough to remove her memories of the wizarding world while leaving those of her son.

The unnamed baby slept on in his carrier, not knowing that his new family was on their way to pick him up, or that someday he'd be part of a world his birth mother wouldn't even know existed. Ainsley wanted to pick him up and tell him that everything would be okay, even if he didn't understand, but didn't want to break the peace.

After a few minutes, there was a soft knock on the door. Ainsley waved her wand and opened it. She'd been expecting two very familiar, very eager faces, but was instead met with a stranger. She instantly stood up straight, stepping between the infant and the man.

"Can I help you?"

He took a single step inside, his gaze never leaving Ainsley's face, though he hardly met her eyes. He seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to have a stranger in her office.

The man looked to be in his fifties with thinning brown hair and streaks of silver down the sides and in his beard. He was nearly as tall as James, and Ainsley instantly felt threatened by an unknown man who was so much larger than her. He stared at her for a long moment until the silence became uncomfortable.

"Can I help you?" Ainsley repeated, her voice sharp. "Who are you?"

The man swallowed, and his face broken into an unexpected and very recognizable smile. He spoke through a thick French accent.

"I'm Bastien Marais."

It took a second for Ainsley to figure out why the name sounded so familiar, but once she did her eyes went wide and her jaw tightened because it had once been her name too.

"You're my father," she said. It wasn't a question.

Bastien nodded slowly, his eyes finally settling on hers. She had only seen a few photos of him over the years. He'd aged well – far better than her mother had.

"I was hoping we could talk," he said slowly, as if he were afraid to frighten her off. Ainsley gripped the handle of her wand tightly.

"You told the ministry you didn't want anything to do with me," Ainsley said. Her throat tightened.

"And I would very much like to talk to you about that," Bastien said. "Just a bit of your time. Perhaps we can sit down over dinner and discuss it? Wherever you'd like to go."

The baby shifted in the carrier behind her, making a small noise and threatening to wake. Ainsley held her breath, hoping he wouldn't and wishing Bastien would just disappear as if he'd never been there at all.

But then again, Ainsley knew she'd only ever heard her mother's side of the story. She never knew what happened – not for certain. She weighed her options, and Bastien folded his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for her verdict.

"I have one more appointment," Ainsley said. "I'll be off in about twenty minutes. Wait in the hall."

His shoulders sank in relief and his grin widened. He pressed his hands together as if in prayer, backing from the room.

"Thank you," he said. " _Thank you_."

Ainsley nodded, and before he could fully exit the room, two more people entered. He slipped past them, and Ainsley looked up into the grinning faces of Dean and Seamus Finnigan-Thomas. Their excitement was infectious and made them both look far younger than their years. Dean and Seamus had begun adopting children around the same time their friends and classmates had begun their families. When their eldest graduated Hogwarts, the pair had decided they weren't done being parents and had come to the ministry to file for adoption one more time. Ainsley had been elated to match them with Sara.

"Gentlemen," she greeted, shoving the anxiety of meeting her father aside. Dean and Seamus had been nothing but excited and cooperative during the entire process and they didn't deserve to have Ainsley's misgivings about her father and frown even slightly damper this experience.

The brief quiet was broken by the sounds of a baby waking and fussing. Ainsley had thought all babies sounded the same before, but she knew now that even the youngest children had distinct voices. She could easily have told this child apart from Orion based on sound alone.

Seamus spotted the baby carrier and his grin widened. "Is… is this..?"

Ainsley moved toward the seat and carefully lifted the baby from it, fully waking him in the process. She supposed it was unavoidable as he began to whimper and cry, and she held him to her chest.

"Meet the newest Finnigan-Thomas," Ainsley laughed as Dean held out his arms eagerly. He carefully took the baby and held him tight. "The mother knew she was going to give him up. She said it was easier if she didn't name him. She wanted to leave that to the people who would be raising him."

For a second, as Dean and Seamus looked down on the baby in awe, Ainsley wasn't even sure they'd heard her. They were instantly in their own little world, calming him with expert hands and quiet, soothing voices.

"Did she stay?" Seamus asked after a minute. "The mother? We wanted to meet her."

Ainsley shook her head sadly, sinking down into her chair again as she began to feel weak. "No. She said her goodbyes a few minutes ago."

Ainsley offered them both the final batch of paperwork to complete the adoption. As the two talked excitedly of introducing their new son to their friends, Ainsley heard Harry's name mentioned and she smiled to herself.

"I can tell him you'd like him to stop by," Ainsley offered. "I'll probably see him in the next day or so."

"Potter?" Dean asked. He bounced the baby gently, lulling him back into a calmed state. "That would be excellent."

Seamus smoothed down the blankets over the baby, and grinned at Dean.

"He looks a bit like you, Dean," Seamus said. Dean said nothing and only smiled.

She smiled to herself as they took turns signing the last of the papers. Sometimes she thought of herself as a child, in awe of all the stories about the heroes of the Second Wizarding War, and she felt a little thrill that she got to spend so much time with the great Harry Potter, who she regularly beat at chess.

When Seamus and Dean departed, they took their elation and energy with them and the baby. Ainsley listened to their voices fade down the hall and she wished that if her mother and father hadn't been able to love her the way she had deserved that they'd given her up so a family like the Finnigan-Thomases could have raised her.

* * *

The walk to the restaurant was quiet and strange and Ainsley kept her hand tucked into the interior of her cardigan, close to the handle of her wand. It was a hot summer's evening and she was too exhausted to be outside in the balmy air, and the pepperup potion she'd taken before leaving her office had barely left her feeling any better. Sleep was very important now and she'd stayed up an hour later than she should have talking to James on Dania's mobile.

They settled on a small Italian restaurant on Shaftesbury Avenue and seated themselves by the window, away from a boisterous crowd toward the back. They sat in relative silence while perusing the menu, and only after they'd ordered did Bastien fold his hands atop the table and lean forward, his eyes scanning Ainsley's face again.

"You look so much like your mother," he said. "She was so beautiful when I met her. She was maybe a year or so older than you are now."

Ainsley shifted uncomfortably in her seat, twisting her bracelet between her fingers beneath the table.

"Is that so? I don't even know how you two met."

Bastien looked aghast. "She never told you?"

Ainsley swallowed hard, suddenly wishing she hadn't turned down his offer of wine. "She never told me anything."

"Well, we met when –"

"I don't really care." Normally Ainsley resented being rude and interrupting people, but she was already so uncomfortable that it didn't matter much. "I don't. But I would like to know why you left."

Bastien sank back into his chair, considering his response and giving Ainsley time to take him in. His hooked nose took nothing away from his handsomeness, and she could see that he must have been quite a catch as a young man with his broad shoulders and tall stature. Clearly, she'd taken very little from him.

"Your mother made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with me," Bastien said after taking a sip of his wine. "We fought all the time after you were born – it wasn't good for anyone, to be honest. We were young and neither of us had been prepared for marriage and we figured that out quickly. She booted me from the house and demanded I relinquish my parental rights, and she had every reason to. I wasn't a good husband or father, Ainsley."

"I could have figured that much out myself," she said darkly.

"But if I'd known what she'd turn into…" Bastien shook his head, looking out the window to the street, his words falling away. "And when the ministry officials came to me after she was put in Azkaban, I panicked. I'm not proud of it," Bastien said, shaking his head. "It took me a long time to move on and I have a family now and children. I didn't know what to say. They assured me you were safe and I thought you'd be better off."

Ainsley's eyes widened. "I-I have siblings?"

Bastien smiled and withdrew his wallet. He held out a photograph of a woman who appeared to be half his age holding a girl of around three and an infant. Both children looked a great deal like their father.

"Oh, wow," Ainsley whispered, taking it from him to get a better look. Her whole life she'd wished for siblings, and there they were staring back at her, waving and bouncing from inside a photo. Did they know about her? Was Bastien's new wife even aware he had an adult daughter in another country?

Ainsley was too afraid to ask.

"I still read the _Daily Prophet_ sometimes. I saw the article about your cousin and it said you were ill."

Ainsley looked up from the photo and saw that his brow was knit together with concern.

"Oh."

"I remember your aunt," he continued. "And I'm terribly sorry to hear that it's affecting you as well."

Ainsley just nodded, folding the wallet and handing it back silently. She tucked her hands back under the table.

"I convinced myself you wouldn't want for anything," he said with a hollow laugh. "I thought that your mother would take care of you, even if she wasn't good at much else and I'm so sorry that I was wrong."

"You couldn't have known," Ainsley said, full of forgiveness. "Everyone makes mistakes when they're young, right?"

"It doesn't seem like you have – graduating from Hogwarts and going straight into the ministry."

"Well, I did break a Ravenclaw's nose once."

Bastien chuckled, and Ainsley could hear a bit of her own laugh in it. The idea that there was at least some part of her that didn't come straight from Daphne warmed her from head to toe, and she grinned, shoving her uncomfortable feelings aside.

"Well, you must have more questions," Bastien offered. "I'd be happy to answer them."

Ainsley launched into all the things she'd tried to ask her mother, but could never get a response on. She found out that her father came from an old French pureblood family (not unlike the Malfoy and Greengrass families) and that her half-siblings were named Jasmin and Olivier. She found out that this was her father's third marriage – his second wife passed away about two years after their wedding – and that he'd 'never been happier.' As their food arrived, he told her that even the French pureblood families felt a strong impact from the Second Wizarding War – his own had barely held on, but their name and investments collapsed not long after his return to southern France when Ainsley was a toddler.

Bastien asked her questions too – about school and where she was staying now. He asked her about Draco and Dania, since he'd only read about them briefly in the papers. He asked her about the Potters and James and whether she thought she'd someday marry him.

"Maybe," Ainsley said, feigning nonchalance with a shrug. It was a sore subject, given the circumstances. "I wouldn't want to do that if I'm going to be ill the entire time."

"You're going to continue living with the Malfoys?"

Ainsley nodded. Their food had arrived and she picked at her soup.

"They've been very kind to me," she said. "And I'm close with my cousin. Besides, Draco and Dania have a new baby and I like helping out."

Bastien toyed with his fork thoughtfully, having finished his fish off in record time.

"It may be a bit much to ask," he began slowly, "but you're welcome to come and live with us."

Ainsley settled her spoon down against her saucer, fighting a brief tremor in her hand from stress. She took a deep breath and steadied it against the edge of the table.

"Pardon?"

"If you wanted a different place to live, or even just to visit," Bastien clarified. "Our home is large and it's on the coast – the weather is far better than here if… well, if you're ill. And I would like to get to know you better, and I know my wife would love to meet you."

Ainsley found that hard to believe and stared past him at the white cinderblock wall. She loved spending time with Orion and she hadn't understood how a baby could be one of her favorite people until she sang him to sleep for the first time. What would that be like with children she was related to? She loved Scorpius so much and she was only her cousin… and the warmth and dry air in the south of France couldn't exactly _hurt_ her health, could it?

But Bastien hadn't been there, had he? She didn't know him at all – not the way she knew her new family. She didn't know how he took his tea (Draco took his with two sugars, no milk) or what his favorite kind of sandwich was (Scorpius loved roast beef). He'd never helped her get ready for an event (Dania could plait hair better and faster than anyone Ainsley had met), stayed up with her in the sleepless nights after her sixth year (Draco found her several times in the sitting room), or taken off around the world at the slightest provocation to seek a cure for the blood curse slowly eating at her (she wondered where Scorpius and James were now).

"Maybe I'll come and visit," Ainsley said, wanting to keep things friendly. "It would be nice to meet your family."

"They're your family too," Bastien said.

Ainsley didn't respond, and began eating her soup again while he described their seaside home in glowing detail and told her about her younger sister's start at the local magical pre-school.

It wasn't until after Ainsley had finished her dinner and the plates had been carried away that Bastien rounded the conversation back to Daphne. Ainsley stifled her third yawn in a row as he asked her how her life had changed following her mother's incarceration.

"Surely some things got better, didn't they?"

"Well, I do like living with the Malfoys," Ainsley admitted. "Mum kept me rather isolated, so it's good to have more people around now that I'm out of school."

"You could live on your own. Didn't you wind up with the Greengrass fortune?" he asked, staring at his fingers as he twisted a napkin around them rather than looking at her. He spoke with the air of one who'd finally reached their point of interest and was trying to seem nonchalant. "Or was it split between you and your cousin?"

Ainsley sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, her heart sinking.

 _Of course_ , she thought. _Of course, there was a reason he'd show up now after the_ Prophet _ran an article about me that used the word 'dying.' I should have known…_

She let out a long, slow breath and looked back at him.

"Well, this was lovely," she said sarcastically, getting to her feet slowly and steadying herself against her chair as she pulled a few notes of muggle money from her pocket and tossed them onto the table with a cursory glance to ensure it was enough to cover the entire meal and more.

"What are you doing?" Bastien asked, aghast. He moved to stand but Ainsley held up a hand to stop him and shook her head.

"Don't follow me," she instructed. "You won't be getting a knut of what my mother left me."

"Ainsley, _ma chérie_ , that's not what I meant –"

"Whether it is or not isn't relevant," Ainsley said, resolute. "I have a family and I'm quite happy with them, so I think I'll just be headed home to them now."

She looked away from him quickly, offering a polite wave of thanks to their waiter and slipped from the restaurant quickly and quietly and out onto the street. It was after eight o'clock and the crowds had thinned to only some pub-goers and people rushing home late from work. A bit of light lingered over the tops of the city buildings, and she wove her way through a crowd of young men laughing and clutching their drinks, their eyes glued to the football game on a nearby screen.

She headed down the street as quickly as possible, her heels clicking against the cobbled stone, admonishing herself all the way. After all this time, people still had the power to disappoint her, and she was beginning to wonder how long it would be before James and the Malfoys would manage to do the same.

 _Don't think like that_ , she thought, crossing a street toward a quiet alley.

Ainsley tucked her hands into her pockets, rounding the corner back toward the Ministry of Magic _,_ and looked over her shoulder only once to ensure she wasn't being followed.

* * *

Draco checked his watch once more before taking a sip of his brandy. He had left Dania and Orion an hour ago – Orion was asleep in his cradle with his mother happily dozing beside him, a smile on her face after a productive day at work and a particularly excellent evening. Draco had been very lucky at the farmer's market earlier in the day and had prepared dinner himself, making her favorite meal – roast chicken with asparagus and a side of rosemary potatoes. It would have been a perfect evening (aside from Scorpius being away) if only Ainsley had joined them, but she hadn't come home in time, which was alarming enough. Now it was well after ten o'clock and she had yet to make an appearance and Draco was becoming truly concerned.

He was just about to consider Flooing Harry when the flames in the fireplace suddenly grew and turned emerald. A moment later, his niece stumbled through the flames, looking bedraggled and tired. He raised his eyebrows at her disheveled appearance, but Ainsley took no notice. In fact, she didn't seem to recognize he was in the room at all. She grasped the hearth for stability and made quick work of removing her shoes, throwing them across the room into a corner with more force than necessary.

"Is something wrong?"

The noise that escaped her was somewhere between a peep and a scream and Ainsley turned her back to the fireplace, clutching a stich in her chest.

"Merlin's pants!" she swore. Draco grinned smugly, taking another sip of his brandy as she shook her head, a reluctant smile breaking as her fright dissipated. "You can't do things like that, Uncle Draco. I _am ill_ , you know."

"Oh, please." Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic. You and I both know a bit of a scare won't do any harm."

"But what if I'd stumbled," she asked, peeling off her cardigan and draping it over her arm. He knew it wasn't her intent, but the sight of faint bruises down her arms sobered him. She was careful, he knew, but it was impossible to avoid every-day hazards.

"You didn't answer my question. Is something wrong?"

The small smile faded from Ainsley's face.

"I'm fine."

Draco sighed and set his drink aside. "You're a better liar than Scorpius but you're still not very good," Draco reminded her. He gestured to the chair beside his. "Please?"

Ainsley sighed and dropped into the chair, withdrawing her wand and tossing her cardigan away with her shoes. It was unlike her to be so messy and careless, and it set off alarm bells in Draco's head, but he waited patiently for an explanation.

"My father came to the ministry today," Ainsley said quietly. Draco arched a brow at her.

"Really? Did you happen to run into him, or –"

She shook her head, staring into the fire morosely. "No. He was looking for me. If I'd just passed him I wouldn't have even known it was him. It took me a moment to connect him with the man in the old photos mum hid."

Talking of Ainsley's father made Draco distinctly uncomfortable. He'd never met the man himself and had only heard stories through Astoria. None of them were flattering.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand," Draco offered. "But if you want me to make sure he never comes near you again, that can easily be arranged."

Ainsley thought for a moment, her silence broken only by the cracking of a particularly large log in the fire.

"I'd appreciate that," she said finally. Draco looked her over carefully for signs of harm, and was grateful that only her mood seemed to be injured. After a minute, she reached over and seized Draco's glass and drained the remainder of his brandy in a few quick sips.

"Ainsley, what can I do?"

"I don't think there's anything you can do," she said, tilting the glass from side to side so the ice tumbled and clattered. She stared down into it as though she resented the glass for being empty, but Draco was certain her ire was misplaced. "I don't think there's anything anyone can do. You can't make me something other than what I am."

Draco leaned forward in his chair toward her and reached out to still her hand but thought better of it.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'll always be a Greengrass," she said, her voice breaking as the words began to tumble from her. "And I'll always be Bastien Marais' daughter – not that I know much about what that means. Apparently, I have half-siblings that no one bothered to tell me about. They likely don't know anything about me at all, and the only reason Bastien came here was because he saw the article about me being ill. He assumed I was dying – don't worry, I didn't mention where Scorpius and James are – I don't really know what his motives are –"

Draco shook his head. It was the farthest thing from his mind with Ainsley on the verge of angry tears.

"And he just wanted to know if I'd inherited what was left of the Greengrass fortune. Guess he wanted to mend fences before I died so I'd leave it to him or something."

Draco opened his mouth to console her, though how he didn't know, but Ainsley continued, her voice raising as a few tears ran down her face.

"It's not fair. None of it is fair – that I'm her daughter or that people cringe or look twice when they see my surname. I know it's not the same – what she did to Scorpius was deranged and unspeakable, and it's horrible that he has to live with it, and poor Albus, in pain like that for so long, but I have to live with it too in some ways.  And Scorpius knows, but I can't talk to him about it, can I? He was tortured for Dumbledore's sake! And he was my only real friend for so long and I can't even tell him how upset I am when a _Prophet_ reporter approaches me on a slow day or when a family looking to adopt requests a different case handler simply because of my surname, and I can't even blame them."

She sniffed, wiping at her cheeks and Draco conjured a handkerchief quickly, handing it to her. She took it silently, mopping up her face as she continued.

"And now I'm sick. And it's all well and good that Scorpius and James are out there looking for a cure but the odds are long and slim. I know that, and I know no one wants to talk about it and that's fine. Even if there is one – and Scorpius is bloody brilliant, so if anyone can figure it out, he can – but even if there is some wonderful solution, at this moment – at this _very_ moment, I am dying and I can feel it. Every bump. Every papercut. Every time I feel a tickle in the back of my throat and I think 'this is it. The first of the chronic nosebleeds’, or when I trip and I wonder if my ankle will swell to thrice its normal size in minutes or when I take my third restoration potion of the day and it burns my tongue. I'm acutely aware that I'm dying, and everyone else is acutely aware that I'm a Greengrass, and my own father, who was never really a father, only came to check on me in the hopes that I was _actually_ dying and would resurrect his bank account. I just hate it. I hate my last name so much for so many reasons."

Even Draco felt winded when she stopped talking. She was breathing hard out of frustration and after a few seconds she looked at him. Draco offered her the kindest smile he could, wishing he could offer some condolences or comfort, but he didn't know what he could say to make her feel better. He nearly wished she would cry – Draco had always been good with crying children, and he was still able to calm Scorpius when he worked himself into tears.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. Ainsley looked at him, her hair falling from its clip into her eyes. "Truly. There's nothing I can do to take away Daphne as your mother, and I can't make Marais not your father."

"I know," Ainsley muttered. "I'm sorry I ranted at you."

"Don't be," Draco laughed. "Please, don't be. I knew your surname gave you trouble still, but I never stopped to think of how all these things must be weighing on you at once, and that's my fault. Forgive me?"

Ainsley looked shocked at the notion. "Forgive you?"

"I've been so caught up in Scorpius being gone and tracking down these potions ingredients –" he gestured to the long table at the rear of the room that was now covered in boxes, jars, and three types of cauldrons 'just in case'. "I didn't stop to think of how this could all be compounding upon you."

"It's not your job to notice," Ainsley said, shaking her head. "Don't apologize. Just meeting my father and having him… well, he's not much better than my mother… it got under my skin."

"And something should have gotten under your skin long before now," Draco said. "You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for – not unlike someone else I know."

He pointed up at Astoria's painting hanging over the fireplace. She smiled down at them, leaning against the dark banister in front of her looking both elegant and relaxed, twisting the rose between her fingers. Ainsley let out a long sigh, staring up at her aunt.

"I hope I'm more like her than I am like my mother."

"You are," Draco confirmed. "Both you and Scorpius are. More than you will ever know."

Ainsley nodded, and Draco wasn't quite certain he believed her, and so he cleared his throat again, thinking back to a conversation he and Dania had weeks ago when the most recent story on the Greengrass curse and Daphne's legacy ran in a disreputable tabloid sold alongside _The Daily Prophet_.

"Ainsley, I can't remove Daphne as your mother," Draco reiterated. "And I can't do anything about Bastien being your father."

"I know," she sighed, rubbing her face. Draco caught her wrist gently and wrapped his hand around hers. Her hand was far warmer than his – a sure sign of a low-grade fever.

"I can't take away that they're your biological parents," he said carefully. "But you know that you're family to us. Dania and I love having you here, and I think Orion likes you more than he likes me."

"I sing better than you," she whispered, smiling sheepishly. Draco laughed and nodded, feeling a weight lift when she smiled.

"That you do," he agreed. "You're the closest thing I have to a daughter and the nearest thing Scorpius has to a sister, and Dania couldn't love you more if you were her own child. Neither could I."

"I love you too," Ainsley whispered, her voice so quiet Draco nearly didn't hear her. It gave him pause.

"I know you're an adult, and I know someday you'll get married and you'll change your surname, but until then if you don't want to be a Greengrass anymore, you're welcome to become a Malfoy."

Ainsley met his eyes, her own wide and surprised. Draco knew the pain of hating a name very well – of feeling the weight every time he saw his own signature, and of second glances when he offered his identification when his hair and face hadn't been enough for recognition. If he could do anything to ease that pain for Ainsley, he would, because none of what he'd said was untrue.

"You're not a child, of course, but I could have our lawyers draw up the paperwork. You could legally become our daughter. It wouldn't change anything – nothing you don't want changed, of course."

When she didn't respond, Draco squeezed her hand, preparing to let go.

"It's okay if you say no. Being a Malfoy isn't really any better –"

Ainsley held his hand tight – or as tightly as it seemed she could.

"It's a world better," she said quickly. "You guys are my family – the only family I've ever really had."

"You don't have to call me dad or anything. Frankly I'm not even sure Dania won't have Orion calling her by her name instead of 'mum' so it's not confusing with Scorpius around –"

"I wouldn't mind it," Ainsley murmured. "Calling you dad, I mean." 

"Well," he croaked, "I hardly think Scorpius will mind, and I'd love to have Orion think of you as a sister. Besides, if Potter and his lot have taught me anything, it's that family isn't necessarily who you're related to. Closeness and love aren't dictated by blood." Draco paused thoughtfully and laughed to himself. "Don't you ever tell Harry I said that."

"I never thought of… are you sure?"

"Of course," Draco said, smiling. His father would have been appalled at the notion of him adopting anyone – even under these circumstances – and the thought only solidified to Draco that this was the right thing to do.

Ainsley nodded furiously for a second before covering her face with her free hand, pressing the handkerchief against her nose. Draco suspected she had begun crying in force and he knelt down in front of her, drawing her down against his shoulder. She clung to him, her hands gripping clumsily at the back of his shirt, and Draco did his best to calm her until he spotted Dania standing at the doorway wrapped in her dressing gown, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and Draco was instantly grateful for his wife's calm demeanor and gentle voice.

"I'm sorry," Draco apologized, rubbing Ainsley's back as Dania joined them, perching on the arm of Ainsley's chair. "I told her about what we discussed a few weeks ago. I know we said we'd talk to her together, but…"

Draco shrugged a bit as Ainsley sat up and it became clear that she was distraught. She wiped her tears away quickly before looking up at Dania, who smiled down at her, tucking Ainsley's hair behind her ear.

 "Are you sure it's okay?" Ainsley asked her. Dania's face broke into a kind smile and she laughed.

"It's more than okay," Dania assured her, which seemed to be enough for Ainsley who let Dania pull her close to her side, Ainsley tucked her face against Dania's abdomen, stifling another yawn. Draco sat back on his heels, taken aback as he was every day at his wife's bedside manner. Sometimes he wasn't sure if she was truly as beautiful as he thought she was – maybe it was just her kindness shining through.

"I'm sorry," Ainsley apologized, sniffing again. "It was just a really long day. I was finishing up the Finnigan-Thomas case."

"Oh, did they pick up the baby?" Dania asked.

Ainsley nodded into Dania's side, shifting so she could look at Draco.

"They did," Ainsley confirmed. "It's the first time I've been able to see a case through, start to finish."

"Well, fortunately you'll be less paperwork," Dania teased, and Draco was glad to see that when Ainsley laughed, her smile didn't fade instantly.

* * *

Nice, France wasn't particularly nice, Scorpius thought. First, they'd found no vacancy in the small wizarding settlement outside town. Then, as they'd begun searching for muggle lodgings (with James attempting to use the mobile to pull information and swearing every few seconds), it had begun to rain.

Finally, when they reached the local history archive that covered all southern France (where Scorpius now knew Abel had been born), they had been turned away without ceremony. James said it was because they didn't trust foreigners, but the wizard behind the counter had seemed perfectly fine until Scorpius had spoken, drawing his attention. His tune changed quickly and he sent them along, claiming they "didn't let just anyone visit their collection."

"I think he recognized me," Scorpius said. It was well after dark now and the rain had long since stopped, but puddles remained across the plaza outside the Université Nice Sophia Antipolis' Carlone Campus outside the city center. They were reduced now to breaking in after-hours, and Scorpius hoped security wasn't tight, since Albus still had the invisibility cloak. "I'm so sorry – I made this more complicated."

"It wasn't you, mate," James said, though he was clearly exasperated. He ran a hand across his stubble, shifting Scorpius' messenger bag on his shoulder. "I don't think he was going to like either of us much."

Scorpius held back a scoff, but was grateful James wasn't fighting with him. He'd become increasingly standoffish over the last few days and it wasn't doing much for Scorpius' forced optimism. He'd narrowed his focus down to two things: any reference of the Gringras name and anything that could give him a date surrounding a magical confrontation in Nottinghamshire.

"If magical historians weren't so bloody stingy this would be much easier," Scorpius grumbled. "We're always so isolated – gathering the texts that belong to us and keeping them held up in collections whether or not they're in use. It's so frustrating."

James drew his wand as they reached the back door to the building. "Sounds like a problem for another day," he said before tapping the handle and whispering "Alohamora."

The door clicked open and they slipped inside the dark corridor. Both Scorpius and James lit their wands and started toward the hidden door at the end of a long line of faculty offices. It was disguised as a tenured faculty member's office to keep the muggle students and staff away, and was carefully warded to escape notice. Normally the idea of breaking into a secret wizarding library in the south of France would sound thrilling – it was the kind of thing Albus would love, and Scorpius wished desperately that he were there, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

It took a few incantations, but James got the door open. He stepped through and gave Scorpius a sly grin.

"You learn a few things at Gringotts," he explained.

The room, appropriately full of muggle books, was dominated by a large mahogany desk – the one the gatekeeper wizard had sat behind earlier in the day. Behind the desk hung a large painting nearly the height of the wall. It depicted a bloody war with soldiers on horseback and on foot. Between them milled a selection of angels and demons who appeared to interfere indiscriminately.

"That's morbid," James said, pointing to a soldier being hoisted into the air by one of the darker demons with a spear through his midsection. Scorpius winced, his healing and mild bruises aching at the sight.

"No, thank you," he said, raising his wand and muttering an incantation to reveal enchantments as he looked around. He should have known, in hindsight, that when he turned back around he'd find that it was the painting. Cautiously, he reached out to touch it and found that his hand slipped right through the paint.

"Through here?" James asked. "That seems too easy."

"Maybe it is," Scorpius said with a shrug. "If the guide I read is correct, they don't have anything too dangerous. It's mostly outdated history books and an archive of educational textbooks through the ages back to the beginnings of Beauxbatons."

"Hmm," James hummed. "Still, I'll keep my wand out."

Scorpius stepped through first and found himself in a dark room lit only by his wand and light streaming in from the windows that sat high above the plain bookshelves. They were in what appeared to be a vast basement with rows and rows of books. The shelves stopped only a meter below the ceiling, letting the light in and Scorpius wished they were letting in some fresh air. He coughed against the dust.

"Not very big, is it?" asked James, who'd stepped through behind him.

"It doesn't seem that way, but look."

Scorpius stepped over to one of the shelves. A thin, shining silver cord ran around it, floating a few centimeters off the ground and protecting them from the drop that surrounded the bookcase as it plunged down through the floor. A thin ladder sat attached to the shelves and James leaned over to examine it.

"Brilliant! It's enchanted to stay attached."

"I dunno," Scorpius mumbled, apprehensive. He scratched his head, looking around. All the shelves were set up the same, and they each had bright white labels on the side indicating what they held. He looked down the shaft the nearest one sat in and cringed. The bottom was barely visible. "Something seems off, doesn't it?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" James asked, digging out Scorpius' notes. "The witch in Germany said this would be your best bet at finding some kind of personal note indicating when the curse was cast since the Gringras family was split between here and Annesley at the time and there's only one archive in Britain and you've combed it already."

Scorpius glanced down the length of the shelf again. He'd much rather comb it again if it meant he wouldn't have to cross that line and get on that ladder. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he looked around, distinctly uncomfortable, though he couldn't pinpoint why.

"Listen, I'll go down there and tell you what I find if you can't do it," James said impatiently. Scorpius' eyes snapped back to him. James clearly hadn't meant it as a challenge, but the implication that Scorpius couldn't do it himself was just something he couldn't bear – not from James.

"I'll do it," Scorpius snapped. "Let's just find the right case, alright?"

For nearly a half hour they milled about the room row by row, checking the labels one by one until Scorpius found the one labeled _Historie Familiale – 1600_. He looked at the shelf nearest his eye-level where book holders of various sizes were labeled with names – _Adnet, Affre, Alarie_ …

"I think this is it," he called to James, who was surveying the shelves behind him. James appeared at his shoulder and handed Scorpius his bag.

"You sure you don't want me to do it?"

"Don't say it like that," Scorpius said, slinging the bag across his body and biting back a grimace as the strap dug into a sore spot on his shoulder. It was nearly time for another dose of the blood replenishing potion, but he couldn't risk James seeing it and had left it back in their shabby hotel room.

Still gripping his wand tight, Scorpius reluctantly stepped over the line and perched precariously on the cement edge an arm's length from the shelves. He looked back at James for encouragement and received an insincere thumbs-up. James looked nearly as uncomfortable as Scorpius as he stepped across the gap and onto the ladder, grateful for his long legs and relieved when nothing awful happened, save for the sudden appearance of a floating shelf at the edge of the shelf that followed him down the first few steps, keeping itself parallel with Scorpius' location.

 _Progress_ , Scorpius thought to himself, adjusting the bag across his body but finding it futile – every position hurt as he climbed down the ladder, descending through the alphabet towards the 'G' section.

The room was silent, save for the rustling of his movements and the dull tap of his shoes against the steps. He missed home the most at moments like this when he was waiting to focus on something – the gaps between reading and searching and moving and looking when he was left to his own thoughts but couldn't surrender to the exhaustion. He missed his father's cooking and the way Dania watched over them as they played with Orion. He missed Ainsley bringing Orion over for dinner when Draco and Dania needed the night off, and he missed watching Albus juggle cooking and talking to them as if he'd been doing it his whole life.

Most of all, he missed Albus, who could make any place feel like home – even this dark pit that held the massive bookcase. If Albus were here, he'd be joking and talking about which pub they'd visit when they got home. If Albus were here, Scorpius wouldn't be nearly as concerned.

As he passed the final shelf for surnames beginning with 'F,' Scorpius' step faltered and he slipped. He smacked his knee against the bar and barely caught himself with a yelp and grasped the rail tight, breathing hard and grimacing as his leg began to throb.

James' voice echoed down from above. "You okay?" he asked quickly, alarmed. Scorpius looked up and could barely see the pale outlines of his face.

"I'm fine," Scorpius called back. He placed his wand between his teeth and nudged his glasses back into place before leaning over and surveying the shelf. _Granet, Gribelin, Grignard, Grinda –_

"Found it," Scorpius called up to James, who let out a small 'whoop' of encouragement. He pulled the holder and turned it around to the open side so he could see its contents – several old leather-bound books all stacked up neatly. He half-wrapped himself around the ladder side rail, and cast a quick charm on the nearby floating shelf to bring it nearer.  He started pulling the items out carefully.

"It's going to take a bit," Scorpius told James.

"Can you levitate it up?"

Scorpius aimed his wand at the case and tried to move it by magic, but it didn't budge.

"I don't think so. I don't think I'm meant to."

"That's okay," James called back, sounding jittery. "Just be careful."

Scorpius began perusing the papers and books and realized very quickly that he'd been very, very lucky. There was an old family tree that showed connections between the Gringras family and several others both in France and in England when the family was still stretched between the two. He unrolled several scrolls that listed family members _and_ the house servants in Niece, and was elated to find a similar manifest for the home in Annesley. He was elated to find Abel's name on it, and he propped it up against another box and began crossing the names on the list with the names on the old journals and ledgers in the box, thumbing through old financial records, periodical clippings (all in French) and certificates until he came across a journal belonging to the handmaid of Abel's wife. He checked the front and back and saw that it covered nearly a decade in the 1660s.

For nearly thirty minutes he thumbed through it, skimming for _anything_ that seemed relevant. The girl – Margery – was a witch of low birth who was surprisingly literate but seemed to have attended Hogwarts.

 _Boys and girls got different educations then_ , Scorpius reminded himself. _Even at Hogwarts._

Though her writing was sloppy but clever – the journal was clearly only meant for her and Scorpius felt a bit guilty reading it, even though she was long dead. Still, he found Margery funny – especially a three-page long rant where she wondered why she even bothered with school if she was only going to be spelling chamber pots clean and tending to her masters' children all day.

It wasn't until he got to 1668 (and by then James' pacing footsteps were impossible to ignore), that he found something curious…

"James, I think I've got something," Scorpius called up. He carefully closed the book and grabbed the family tree papers, tucking them inside the front of a ledger detailing the expenses of Abel's manor and tucked them into his messenger bag.

"Great! Are you coming back up?"

"Yup," Scorpius called as he began the slow and careful climb. He checked his watch – he'd been down there nearly an hour. His joints ached from the awkward positioning and he took careful, deliberate steps to avoid slipping until he reached the top, climbing high enough that his feet were level with the cement floor again.

"That was unnerving," Scorpius admitted. "I'm glad the British archive has enough space that we don't have to do _this_."

"Brits do everything better than the French," James said. He held out his hand to help Scorpius across the gap. "Come on."

Scorpius grabbed on for stability and stepped across the cement and across the silver safety line.

As soon as Scorpius crossed, it turned black, taking away the faint glow from around the shafts. A rush of cold settled on them like an icy breeze, but the air remained still and stagnant.

"A chilling charm?" James asked, confused.

The cold reached Scorpius' bones as he looked around, gripping the strap of his bag and the handle of his wand until his knuckles went whiter than they already were. He shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and gulped.

"No. Not a chilling charm," he whispered, though it didn't matter. What was coming for them couldn't hear. It didn't need to. "I think I know why this place was so easy to break into."

"Shit," swore James.

Two Dementors emerged from the shadows on the opposite end of the room, manifesting in a stray bit of moonlight. James raised his wand instantly, stepping forward, his eyes wide as they moved toward them, casting a chill around the room.

Scorpius knew it would happen as soon as he felt the cold, but that didn't prepare him for his mother's voice to come, unbidden, into his mind. From somewhere far away Astoria was coughing and begging him to help – to save her and pull her from death. At fourteen he'd resigned himself in his depression to the idea that Astoria couldn't have been saved by any means, but here, in this room, her cries seemed closer even if they weren't louder.

"Expecto Patronum," cried James, and a massive silver dog burst from the end of his wand. It shook out its shaggy hair, clearly in no hurry, then snarled at the Dementors before bounding down the corridor at them.

Astoria's voice became Albus' as they backed away from the Dementor's advance. Scorpius shook his head, but it was no use. Albus' gentle voice was twisted into something sinister, telling him that he hated Scorpius – _loathed_ him for lying and abandoning him. Scorpius covered his ears out of instinct, but the voice continued inside his head.

A third Dementor had joined the others, and James' dog was struggling to keep up with them, snarling and biting them back.

"I think Padfoot could use a little help!" James cried. His face was contorted in distress. Scorpius wondered what James could be hearing under the Dementor's influence, but couldn't dwell with Albus screaming at him like that –

"I-I've never managed it," Scorpius said. "I never could…"

"Now would be a good time to try again!"

Scorpius was gasping for air by the time he realized a fourth Dementor had approached from behind. James yelled and cast his Patronus again, but it was feeble and thin. They backed away from it and tripped over one another, falling in a tangle on the floor. The unnoticed tears on Scorpius' face froze against his cheeks and eyelashes and this was it – this was how he was going to die – on a cold concrete floor, aching and tired thousands of kilometers from home with James Potter of all people. What a depressing end to a largely depressing life…

But it hadn't all been death and bullying, had it? Scorpius had found more love as an adult than he could have imagined as a child, and for once in his life, he'd had a family beyond his mum and dad.

He didn't know where the memory came from. Without warning, he thought of Albus reaching back for him through the crowd at King's Cross after their graduation, his hand outstretched with Draco, Ainsley, and the Potter family waiting behind him in the distance. It was a simple image and not one he thought often or dwelled upon, but it was an all-encompassing reminder that his mother's death, the time-turner incident, the kidnapping and this illness may have demarcated all the befores and afters in his life, but there had been so much in between that was so beautiful.

 _You're supposed to say the words._ He thought. _You have the memory – use it._

Scorpius raised his wand at the nearest Dementor as its scaly, grey hands raised to lower the hood and said in the clearest voice he could manage –

"Expecto Patronum."

Scorpius didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the silver dragon that emerged from the tip of his wand. He bit back a satisfied smirk.

 _Dad_.

He scrambled to his feet and James did the same as it soared at the first Dementor, pushing it back down the corridor, before turning and gliding over them, its wings outstretched and its long neck extended – a Welsh Green stripped of its namesake color.

With the Dementors pushed back, James was able to cast his Patronus again and it joined Scorpius' dragon to push back the three Dementors clustered on the other end of the hall.

"Let's go!" James cried. Scorpius nodded, but the Dementors were between them and the exit through the painting – a fact that didn't seem to deter James as he rushed towards them, clearly intent to slip between the two Patronuses keeping them back against the shelves.

Scorpius had no choice but to follow him unless he wanted to be left alone. He ran after James and found himself close to the Dementors – closer to the source of the screaming and crying in his head, which now included Ainsley's accusation that her death would be on his hands if he failed and Orion wailing in pain.

The dragon flickered and faded, freeing one of the Dementors just as he neared them, and both he and James leaped back from it, tripping and stumbling once more. James cast his Patronus again, catching Scorpius' ribs with his elbow in the process, and Scorpius dropped his wand just as James stepped forward.

He barely heard the crack above the voices and memories, but it was a sound he'd never forget.

"Damn!" James cried. Scorpius scrambled and grabbed his wand – the mahogany now cracked enough that he could see the unicorn hair between the splinters – and ran with James past the silver dog as it snapped at the Dementors viciously and back through the painting.

* * *

They got past the painting, past the wards and outside the building in record time. James didn't even seem to care if they were seen when he grabbed Scorpius' arm and apparated them away mid-step as soon as they crossed the barrier. They landed in a damp alley up the street from their hotel, and Scorpius staggered away from him.

"Oh my God," James said, panting with his hands on his knees as Scorpius sank away, his hand splayed against the brick wall as he gasped, his chest tight. James repeated himself four times before his panting broke into laughter, and Scorpius, appalled, looked up at him. James' face was turned up toward the sky as he rubbed his face vigorously, his laugh echoing around the alley and scaring a stray cat from its hiding place.

"That was awesome!" he cried. "I mean, it was terrible – bloody hell, it was terrible – but your Patronus! Your Patronus is a fucking dra-"

James' sentiment dropped off as soon as he looked at Scorpius leaning back against the wall, taking him in for the first time since the Dementors had appeared. Scorpius didn't need a mirror to know what he looked like. He could see the blood down his shirt through his cracked glasses – could feel the bruises blossoming along his cheekbones and arms where he'd fallen. He stared James down as he fished in his pocket for his handkerchief and pressed it against his nose, breathing through his mouth and tasting blood.

Scorpius wasn't sure if it was horror, sadness or rage on James' face as he stepped back in defeat, leaning against the opposite wall, and whispered —

"Christ."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for getting this back to me so fast (because this chapter gap was way too long).
> 
> Coming soon:  
> James comes clean.  
> Albus pieces some things together.  
> Scorpius finds a missing piece.  
> Albus becomes a proper thief.  
> James and Scorpius head home.
> 
>  
> 
> [Send me some love (or hate).](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/ask)


	15. Honesty

"Christ," muttered James. "You've got to be kidding me."

There was no use in playing dumb, so Scorpius did the only thing he knew to do. He stood up straight, wiped what he could of the blood from his face, and met James' eyes.

"You have it too," James said, his arms hanging limp at his sides. "You… but Ainsley isn't… she just has…"

"It's working a little bit faster on me," Scorpius confirmed. "I don't know why. I'm just lucky, I suppose."

" _Lucky?_ " James spat, the emotion building on his face. "Oh – Oh my God. You're _dying_."

Scorpius wrapped his arms around himself in a vain and pointless effort to cover some of the blood on his shirt. Thank Merlin his nose had stopped bleeding — this one had been intense but brief.

James began pacing. "But you… how long did you know about Ainsley?"

"Only a day longer than you," Scorpius said. "I'd already started piecing things together for the counter curse – _potential_ counter curse," he corrected quickly, "but her telling me put me into a bit of a panic. Especially when I realized my symptoms were so different. But there was a lot that mum and dad didn't let me see when…"

Scorpius trailed off. His mother's pale, gaunt face haunted him even now, and with her voice so close and his hands still shaking from the Dementors, it was too much.

"So you've known for a while?"

"A few months, yeah."

James froze and turned toward Scorpius, his eyes wide and wild. He looked ready to kill Scorpius himself, so Scorpius gripped the handle of his wand tight, only to be reminded that it was useless and broken. He was defenseless.

"You asked my brother to marry you."

"I did," Scorpius said, his exhaustion giving him a sheepish quality he didn't much care for.

"You knew this was happening, and you asked my brother to marry you," James repeated, "knowing you could leave him a widower before he was forty."

James was staring at him with the same fiery and hardened look Ginny wore when she was worked up.

"I can assure you that was not what I was thinking about the moment I asked," Scorpius said. He was beginning to get angry. "Besides, if you think Albus would leave or let me leave because of this, then you really don't know him at all – not that you've spent much time with either of us when you weren't focused on Ainsley."

James blanched opened his mouth to reply but came up short. For a long moment, he just regarded Scorpius, gaping like a fish out of water with his face twisted into something Scorpius had never really seen on him, like a mask had been torn away. It took too long for him to realize that James was hurt.

James drew his wand and took a step towards Scorpius, who straightened, now acutely aware that he was entirely defenseless unless he wanted to tap into some of that wandless energy. He felt so horrible and worn though, and he was certain he would pass out from simply trying to move a pen.

He was entirely vulnerable, and it made his skin crawl.

James held up his hands, sensing this.

"I'm just going to scourgify the blood from your clothes and hands, okay? You um… well, you look like you might have killed someone."

Scorpius nodded slowly and James got to work. Using the scouring charm wasn't the best for cleaning clothes – it left them stiff and crusty feeling – but to Scorpius who never had anything less than clean and pressed shirt and trousers (unless he was opting for Albus' clothes for other reasons), re-wearing his clothes on this trip had already been strange enough.

After making quick work of his shirt, James conjured a damp cloth and clumsily helped Scorpius clear the blood from his face. Scorpius took this time to catch his breath and calm down so he could get a handle on the energy buzzing in his veins. He was wound so tight he could nearly hear it, and the voices the Dementors had conjured echoed in the back of his mind. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

"All that," James said, cleaning the last bit of blood from the back of Scorpius' hand, "and we don't even have what we went there for."

"What do you mean?"

"You had it in your hands, didn't you?" James asked. "The thing you took from the shelf?"

Scorpius smirked and opened the flap of his messenger bag. The paper snap folder was bent from being hastily shoved inside, but present in his bag with the journal pressed against it. James let out a shaky laugh.

"Well, at least it wasn't a waste. Are you okay?" James asked. Scorpius said nothing as James checked him over one more time for any leftover blood, sobering quickly, and nodded. "Before we head back… I think it's time you and I had a drink."

* * *

Scorpius and James found a dingy pub not far from where they were staying. They settled into the table in the farthest corner and barely spoke until they each had a pint and a sandwich in front of them. Scorpius quickly drained a glass of water to hold him over until he was able to get his hands on his last vial of blood replenishing potion.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," James began. "About proposing to Albus. That was uncalled for."

Scorpius blinked at him, unable to respond with a mouth full of roast beef. The bread was dry and the sandwich was overall inadequate but he was far too hungry to care.

"I have absolutely no room to judge you or Albus. It's just that you and Ainsley did two completely different things when faced with the same situation," James said.

Scorpius decided now wasn't the time to point out that the situations weren't precisely the same, as Ainsley seemed to have far more time than he did. He washed the first half of his sandwich down with a long drink from his tankard.

"It's okay," Scorpius said.  "It took you by surprise. I guess strong reactions are a Potter-thing."

"Potter _and_ Weasley," James corrected. "Never surprise Hugo in any way unless you want your eyebrows burned off."

Scorpius nodded slowly, eyeing the second half of his meal. He was already wandless – he didn't want to be wordless too if James wanted to have a "talk".

"And you're right. I don’t know my brother half as well as I should," James admitted. "Not anymore."

Scorpius looked at James and found him staring down into his drink, his gaze very far away. In true Potter-form, his hair was a complete mess and was sticking out in every direction, and his face was flush from emotion. Scorpius was certain he'd never seen James looking this vulnerable.

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" James asked after a moment.

"I didn't want anyone to know," Scorpius admitted, his voice quiet and reserved. "If my father found out he'd have me locked up in St. Mungo's faster than you could say 'Quidditch'. And Albus… I nearly told him the last time I saw him, but I didn't want him to give up on his program in Brazil."

"He would have," James said. He laughed and it sounded dark, sad, and lost all at once. "He would have in a heartbeat. I suppose I know him well enough still to know that." James paused and shook his head. "Ainsley told me to watch after you just before we left. I didn't know what she meant at the time, so I'm guessing she knows too?"

Scorpius nodded in confirmation.

"You could have told me," James said. "You must feel awful – I could have helped."

"You would have told your brother, and then he and my father would have done what they always do, which is be overprotective."

James couldn't argue with him – he _would_ have felt duty bound to tell his brother. It only made sense.

Scorpius didn't know what to say to James – that he'd never wanted him to come? That he didn't truly trust James' judgment? James hadn't given him reason to – not recently while they were on this trip. He'd never been anything but truly _good_ to Ainsley, and had always been polite to Draco. He'd just never been friendly with the Malfoys or with Albus after Hogwarts. Scorpius found he didn't have much else to say, except the truth.

"You've never liked me, James," Scorpius said firmly, plucking up his courage and staring James down. "Let's not pretend. I didn't want to give you another reason to hate me."

To his credit, James looked appropriately beaten as he sank back in his chair, his face in his hands. Scorpius didn't look away and picked at his crisps absently as James took a moment to puzzle out what to say.

"I don't hate you," James said. Scorpius failed to suppress a small snort of derision. "I don't," James repeated in defense. "Maybe I did when we were at Hogwarts, but… well, I thought I had reason to at the time, okay?"

Scorpius folded his arms. "I never gave you a reason to hate me. I've never done anything to you."

"You are absolutely right," James agreed. His stomach gave a grumble loud enough that Scorpius heard it over the rest of the bar's noise and James shoved a piece of his sandwich in his mouth, eating it quickly to continue.

"You never did anything. I was what – thirteen at the time? All I knew then was that my brother was a surly kid, but he had fun before he went to Hogwarts. I was so optimistic that he'd go there and make friends and be happy. I was going to make sure that happened, Scorpius – even if it killed me – but then he was sorted into Slytherin. I'd teased him, but I never _really_ saw that coming. Then he met you, and I always knew the Voldemort rumors were stupid – you look too much like your father – but Albus was _miserable_ by the time he got home from his first term at Hogwarts. Worse, he was _mean_ , and Al had never been mean. He hated me."

"Well, you did tease him a lot."

"That's what we do in my family," James said. "And dad did blame you for the change in Albus at the time and I learned far too late that my parents' judgment isn't perfect. So I did the only thing I knew to do – I teased my brother. And as an adult, I do realize that I took it too far. Whenever Albus brings up something I did then, I apologize at least three times, but I don't think he believes me."

"Gee, I wonder why," Scorpius replied, sarcastically. Years of irritation with James on Albus' behalf started to bubble up. "We had enough bullying at school, James. He didn't need it when he got home. And your dad kept telling him to make more friends to get him away from me, but it wasn't that easy."

"I know," James said quickly. "I know that now, but I was really, _really_ selfish. I got way too much of that Gryffindor pride gene, so I'm not good at admitting when I'm wrong. It took me a long time to understand that and I try to do better. Ainsley and I actually have a deal that I can't get angry with her if she calls me out on it because I _want_ her to, but that doesn't mean I can fix what a prat I was as a teenager. There are a lot of things I'd do differently now that I understand there are a lot of things I _can't_ understand because I've had it too easy."

James looked up at him as if asking for permission. Scorpius just frowned in response and waited for him to continue.

"My baby brother didn't need me once he got to Hogwarts. He didn't need me at all, and I didn't know what to do about that. But then I had Lily in Gryffindor and I was so glad because that meant _I_ wasn't the odd-Potter-out. But Lily and Albus were always close. Lily always had a take-on-the-world attitude, even when she was a kid and I think that resonated with Albus somehow. He's always had something to prove."

"Your sister is wonderful," Scorpius said. "Albus is lucky to have her. You both are."

"Exactly. But Albus just didn't need _me_. He made that quite clear. And it completely blindsided me that he was gay. I would never, _ever_ care that he's gay. What upset me was that I was so caught up in my own life that I didn't even notice there was anything going on with him – and literally _everyone_ _else_ in my family knew, Scorpius. Everyone but me."

"It wasn't easy for either of us," Scorpius said. "Not that I think it's easy for anyone at first."

"And I should have been there for him, but my little brother didn't trust me enough to come to me with something that important. We're so different, and our lives just went in different directions. After that he was so happy with you – the happiest I've ever seen him – except for that incident in your seventh year."

His eyes flickered down to Scorpius' wrists. Scorpius didn't bother to make sure they were covered.

"I'd do anything for Albus," Scorpius said. " _Anything_. Which is why I'd begun hunting for information on the counter curse as soon as I realized what was happening to me. We have plans. Not big ones, but plans, and I don't think it's humble to deny that he loves me. I don't want to leave him behind. Do you think I wanted to go through this alone? Do you think that was easy for me? I'm dying, James, and I didn't tell him because I didn't want him to give up something he loves for me."

Scorpius watched James run a hand through his hair, a good quantity of anxiety and pain etched into his face. James, the quintessential Gryffindor and model Potter, was vulnerable and looked more worried now than he had when staring down a Dementor.

"You really would do anything for him, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely."

Scorpius and James stared at one another for a long minute. Scorpius turned everything he knew about James over in his mind – every conversation, every change, every holiday, and every interaction he'd seen between James and Ainsley – and he knew James was doing the same. They were each deciding what to do. Scorpius considered all the things he knew about James now and separated them from the James he'd known at Hogwarts.

Just as Scorpius was about to give a dismissive acceptance of James' apology, he thought of his father's Dark Mark. Draco had never lied about who he'd been as a child and young adult. When he'd started to understand his father's past as a child, he'd been skeptical and afraid until his mother told him how much Draco had changed – that people grow with time and they learn from their mistakes if you let them – and he'd trusted her judgment then. He was certain Astoria would tell him the same thing now.

Just as he decided to give him another chance and to offer that they both try to do better (they were going to be family after all), James broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," James apologized, and Scorpius knew without him saying that he was apologizing for everything all at once. "I'm sorry for judging you. I'm sorry for not being more welcoming and understanding. It wasn't very Gryffindor-like of me to avoid saying it before, because I've known I was wrong for a long time. I just never knew how to begin saying it."

"Possible impending death has a way of dragging confessions out of people," Scorpius said. He smiled through his sadness and watched James' shoulders relax. "I learned that a long time ago with my mum, and so I try not to leave anything unsaid. Being dishonest about the curse has been very difficult. It's not in my nature to lie, I suppose."

"I'm going to be better. To you, and to Albus."

"I'm going to hold you to it," Scorpius said. "Because he's going to need his big brother over the next few months whether he can admit it or not."

James nodded and somehow, Scorpius knew they'd reached an understanding. Maybe Harry had been right – there were just some things you couldn't endure together without emerging closer on the other side, and seeking out a cure for an ancient blood curse, trying to save Ainsley Greengrass, and loving Albus Potter were just a few of those things.

"How long do you think we have until we can go home?" James asked.

Scorpius thought for a moment, running over the scant information he had – but that journal. There was something in that journal. He knew it.

"I'm not sure," Scorpius said. "Even if we don't have an answer, I think we're going to have to go back in the next few days. I at least need to let Albus know what's going on and let him force-feed me some Pepperup Potions."

"He's really good at making those," James admitted. He regarded Scorpius for a moment and asked, "It seems like you're good at taking care of one another."

Scorpius smiled. Even without the influence of the sub-par sandwich, he was longing for one of Albus' home cooked dinners. "I like to think so."

"It's hard for me to imagine. I guess I do need to spend more time with him – sometimes I still look at him and see the same bitchy twelve-year-old who tried to break my broomstick."

"That _is_ my fiancé you're talking about," Scorpius warned. James fell silent quickly, looking scolded, but Scorpius smiled at him. "He was a bitchy twelve-year-old, though. Very moody."

"You miss him," James said. It wasn't a question.

Scorpius didn't want to admit that he wasn't sure how much longer he could stay away, hopping from book to book looking for something he wasn't sure existed, missing Albus and his family more and more with each passing second. James seemed to understand, and that was a surprising comfort to Scorpius.

James said. "I won't tell anyone unless you want me to. I just wouldn't be able to lie to my brother forever."

Scorpius shook his head so fast that the room seemed to spin. He took another drink from his water and they took a few minutes of somewhat companionable silence to eat. Finally, as they finished up, James spoke.

"For what it's worth… I'm in your corner. Just tell me what you need me to do."

"I need some blood replenishing potion," Scorpius admitted, surprisingly relieved now that the air had been cleared and James knew. "I'm nearly out. I'm not even sure there's enough back in the room."

"I'll take care of it," James assured him, starting on the last bit of his meal.

"And I-I need some sleep," Scorpius said, stifling a yawn as if to punctuate his meaning. "Before I can go through this stuff, I need sleep. And then we're going to have to get out of town first thing in the morning."

"I don't think I'm going to be sleeping much tonight," James admitted. "Those Dementors…"

Scorpius wanted to ask him what he heard, but knew that it was a terribly personal question and James could ask him the same. Instead, he just nodded in understanding and took another gulp of his drink. Eventually, James chuckled darkly.

"Isn't it overkill? Protecting a library with Dementors?"

"I agree," Scorpius said. "And believe me, I'd be happy to tell the Minister all about it if we hadn't been breaking and entering to start with."

"True," James said. "But books don't really seem to warrant the ultimate punishment."

"We were looking for something pretty harmless," Scorpius reminded him, stifling another yawn. He could feel the skin around his right cheek begin to tighten and he knew the bruise he'd have tomorrow would be spectacular. "I have no idea what else is down there. There could have been something really dangerous that we just didn't know about."

"I guess," James said. "That's worrisome though."

"It is," Scorpius agreed through yet another yawn. "I think we need to head back. You look exhausted and I'm about to pass out on this table."

James nodded and got to his feet, wiping his hands on his trousers. While Scorpius finished up he got a couple more sandwiches to-go. Together, they walked outside into the damp night air. Scorpius felt unsteady and tired – his energy drained and his concentration shot from hearing his mother's voice, which became louder again once they stepped outside onto the quiet street.

"You're going to have to tell Albus everything you told me," Scorpius said as their hotel came into view a few blocks away. Scorpius stumbled and paused, shaking his head to clear it until James wrapped his arm around Scorpius' shoulders, offering some stability.

"I know," James admitted. "But I figure the best way I can start apologizing is to make sure you get home alive."

 _Well,_ Scorpius thought, _it's a start._

* * *

"When are you going after that Chimaera egg?" Draco asked Albus over lunch.

"Tomorrow night," Albus lied. He was already jittery – he knew he'd be creeping into the cage that very evening. Everything had lined up, and he wasn't sure he'd be getting another opportunity this clean to steal a Class A Non-Tradeable Chimaera egg.

Albus had known better than to go to his father for help. If Harry were implicated in the theft of something so sensitive, he'd lose his job or worse. No – Albus had to go to someone he trusted _and_ someone who knew what he was doing.

Charlie hadn't been happy about scouring Greece for a breeding pair of Chimaeras, but he'd done it once Albus had explained. It took him three days to find a pair that already had a pregnant female, and then there was the matter of capturing it and then finding a reason to keep it in captivity.

Albus hadn't expected Charlie to go as far as to injure a female on the verge of laying eggs, but then again Albus had never known Charlie to do anything in halves.

Charlie had shown up with three other dragon handlers as friends – a trio of two brothers and their sister that he had known since he was only a bit older than Albus – and asked Magorian to rehabilitate them. Besides, it wasn't often the Magizoology Society had the chance to study Chimaeras, was it? The experience would be invaluable for some of the younger members.

And so Albus had wound up on the Chimaera Care Team, pacing an empty room and keeping an eye on the two beasts. He'd watched their wild eyes follow him as he circled the straw-lined cage that took up most of an empty lecture room. He'd observed how the male watched over his mate so protectively (though she didn't need protecting, based on the size of her teeth) and how the female took short naps every few hours. He'd thrown whole buckets of chopped meat through the bars and watched the male give his mate first pick of the food.

And that morning, he'd come in to work to learn two very happy pieces of news: the female's injured leg was healing nicely and would likely be fully functional again by the following week, and she'd laid her eggs overnight. So when Gwendolyn, who'd been assigned to the team against her will, mentioned to a colleague that she was upset to be missing her niece's birthday that evening, Albus jumped at the opportunity.

"I'm free tonight night," he'd chimed in. Gwendolyn, who had never been Albus' fan, looked scandalized that he dare speak to her until she put together what he'd said.

"I'll take your shift," he continued. "Really, I don't mind. I'm not doing anything anyway."

Gwendolyn had been all too happy to accept his help then, and Albus bit his tongue when she whispered to her friend that Albus was only free because his fiancé had run off with someone else.

So Albus sat across from Draco, looking at the bags under his eyes, knowing he couldn't dare put any more pressure on the man. By the time Draco could be mad at him for not divulging when he'd be going after the egg, Albus would already have it and Draco would be too distracted by his excitement at having all the potions ingredients James had listed.

Or he'd be dead and the egg would be someone else's problem.

 _By morning only the most important part will be missing, of course_ , Albus reminded himself. _I have no idea how Scorpius is going to figure this out_.

 _I hope he's okay_.

"Albus?"

"Huh?" Albus jumped at Draco's voice, pulled from his musings.

"I asked if you wanted another cup of tea." Draco held up the silver teapot, but Albus shook his head. More caffeine would only make him antsier.

"No, I'm good."

Draco set the teapot down and folded his hands in his lap, unsure of what to do with them. Dania was at work, and Orion was spending some quality time with his maternal grandfather, leaving Draco with little to do and much to dwell on. Albus was worried about him, and had stopped by to break up some of the torturous monotony of Draco's day. Unfortunately, Draco was a creature of habit and had a daily ritual of having afternoon tea in the sitting room – something Albus could have done without.

"Is it interesting? Dealing with the Chimaera?"

"The society doesn't make it a habit of dealing with them," Albus said. "They're too dangerous with their big teeth and poison tails. Personally, I thought the rules were a bit dramatic, but now that I've seen a couple in-person, I understand – they're vicious."

"You're not going to have to come in contact with them, are you?"

"I might," Albus said honestly, only because he couldn't hide the fear from his face. "I mean, the eggs are really fragile – some of the most fragile in the world, which is surprising given how hearty the animals are. They're so thin and it's too risky to try to move them with magic if the mother is going to be thrashing about."

"Are you sure you don't need my help, Albus?" Draco asked earnestly. "If you have to duel a Chimaera, I'm not a bad person to have around. I have held my own against your father before, you know."

Albus smiled at the thought, though he knew Harry had taken it easy on Draco. Practice or not, Harry was a trained Auror and dueling was second nature, whereas Draco spent most of his days at the manor or, now, at Ministry functions and charity events.

"I'll assess the situation and let you know," Albus said. "Besides, I can move around a lot better now – I'm not defenseless."

"I'm not saying you are," Draco amended quickly. "No, I just feel like I haven't been able to do much to help except order ingredients, which was more work on the part of the Gringotts goblin than myself. And then there's the waiting. It's torture."

Albus forced a laugh, leaning onto his knees and folding his hands. "I understand. At least this has gotten me brownie points with Magorian. Only two people actually volunteered for the team – though I think he believes its more because Uncle Charlie brought the Chimaeras in."

Draco began to speak, but what he was going to say, Albus never knew. The mobile in his pocket gave a shrill ring and Draco scrambled to pull it out. He stared at it, and tapped it several times in a futile effort to answer before Albus took it and swiped his finger across the bottom before handing it back to him.

"Hello?" Draco said. His face brightened immediately. "Scorpius. Hold on – I'm with Albus right now."

Albus sat straighter in his chair, leaning over the small table between them expectantly. After some minor struggling, Draco turned on the speaker and set it between them, looking so proud of himself that Albus couldn't help smiling.

Scorpius' voice sounded strange across the static-filled connection.

"Albus?"

"Hey, love," Albus said. "How are you?"

"Um, I'm good," Scorpius replied. "We're still in France, but I wanted to check in. Make sure everything was okay there. Say hello."

Albus frowned once he realized it wasn't really the static making Scorpius' voice sound strange. Instead of sounding normal or even anxious (which, for Scorpius, was quite normal), he sounded shaky and tired.

"Scorp, are you okay?" Albus asked. "You sound a bit rough."

"I'm fine," Scorpius laughed. The tone of it put Albus on edge even more, and judging by the way Draco was staring at the phone, it had a similar effect on him. "I just haven't slept well," Scorpius continued. "And I'm just getting tired. But I'm pretty sure we'll be back in a few days."

"Really?" Draco asked. "That's excellent news, Scorpius. Is James well?"

"James is fine," Scorpius said. "He's been really helpful. I wouldn't have made it this far without help, to be honest. You know I get a bit wrapped up when I'm working on something. During finals Albus always had to make sure I ate."

Albus smiled at the memory – stacking up snacks in the Great Hall and bringing them to their library table, making sure Scorpius drank water to balance out his tea and coffee intake, and spending the whole weekend after exams reading while Scorpius slept off his stress.

The smile was short-lived, however. On the other end of the line, Scorpius began to cough. It was brief, and after he'd cleared his throat, he continued.

"Sorry. Haven't had enough water," he said, raspy. "So where are you on that Chimaera egg?"

"It's under control," Albus assured him. "And I know far more about Chimaeras than I ever needed to."

"No knowledge is ever wasted, Albus," Scorpius reminded him.

Draco leaned over the phone, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Scorpius assured him, but his voice was still shaky.

"You don't sound fine," Albus said.

"Well, I am," Scorpius assured him, but his words were short and quick – a sure indicator that he wasn't fine at all, and he began to cough again. Scorpius rarely sounded so irritable and Draco noticed too. He sat back from the phone, eyeing it as if it offended him. Albus was confused – if Scorpius wasn't feeling well or if he was tired, why couldn't he just admit it?

Albus followed Draco's gaze as it travelled from the phone (while Scorpius began rambling on about the weather and how he'd had the best croissant of his life that morning or something else equally insignificant) up to Astoria's painting above the mantle. Normally, Albus looked at her painting often as a sort of respectful ritual to the woman he'd never met, but now, as he looked up at her, he realized he'd been avoiding Astoria since Scorpius' birthday.

Albus looked from Draco to Scorpius' mother and saw that she was staring down at them with more sorrow than Albus had ever seen on a human face – let alone a painted one. Her familiar, delicate features were contorted into a particular kind of agony and Albus looked back in horror to the resigned look on Draco's face as he stared up at his late wife.

He was forced to face a truth he'd been ignoring for weeks – the thing that had been nagging at him and that he tried not to think about it. It had been like a bright light he tried not to look at, but couldn't completely ignore even when he closed his eyes. Scorpius carried his mother's blood curse.

Draco hung his head and stared down into the fire in a calm, beaten moment of submission, and Albus suspected he'd also been skirting the truth for a while too.

Scorpius' rambling voice faded into the background as the walls started to collapse in around Albus. His head was pounding as he placed it in his hands, folding over on himself and staring down at his knees.

Albus' entire world revolved around his fiancé and best friend, and now he was so far away and ill, suffering from the same ailment that had taken his mother. Albus thought of the family they'd hoped to someday have and the home out in the country they wanted in a few years and felt like his entire future had been torn away, leaving him with only this one, excruciating moment in the Malfoy sitting room, feeling like there was a hole in his chest.

Finally, Draco spoke to his son.

"Are your accommodations acceptable?"

Albus stared at him, aghast. Draco's calm voice and pained expression didn't match and Albus took a shuddering breath before interrupting Scorpius' reply.

"Scorpius, are you ill? Are you sure? You don't sound well –"

Albus cut himself off when Draco reached forward and tapped the circle labeled "mute" on the phone. They could still hear Scorpius telling them everything was fine, so Albus knew he couldn't hear them.

"Draco, he's sick. Does he have it? The-" Albus choked on the words. "The _thing_ Astoria had?"

"Yes," Draco confirmed. Albus held his breath. "I suspected the last few times we spoke and he sounds even worse today. I can tell when he's lying but I… I didn't want to believe it."

Albus exhaled long and slow, his throat burning with the scream he was forcing down.

"I think I was ignoring…" Albus couldn't continue, but Draco nodded and Albus knew he was understood. "Make him come home," Albus demanded.

"It won't do any good," Draco said.

"Make him come home. He needs to be cared for," Albus repeated. Still, Draco shook his head. "Fine. _I'll_ make him come home."

Albus reached for the phone. Draco snatched it out from under his hand and Albus made a wild grab for it, forcing Draco to stand and step back.

"No. This is exactly why he didn't tell me. Or you. Because we'd do exactly that."

"He's not thinking!" Albus cried. "He can't be – he wouldn't have hidden something like this from me!"

Draco held up his hand to silence Albus who promptly sunk back into his seat, feeling quite boneless and useless.

"He is thinking clearly," Draco assured him. "He didn't want us to panic. It's like when he pretended he didn't have a cold so I wouldn't interrupt him completing his homework at the end of the summer."

" _This is so much worse than a cold, Draco_ ," Albus all but yelled.

"Dad?" came Scorpius' voice from the phone. "Albus? Are you still there?"

Draco looked down at Albus. "We're not going to say anything," Draco instructed. "It'll only upset him needlessly. Let him finish whatever it is he's doing and then he'll come home."

Albus listened to Scorpius' desperate voice for a moment. "Merlin, no," he said, sounding panicked. The static increased. "I hope I haven't lost you – I think that was the last of the muggle money James gave me… I have a knut. Would a knut work?"

Finally, Albus nodded in agreement. He watched, helpless, as Draco tapped the phone.

                                                                                                         

"Sorry, Scorpius – I don't think you could hear us for a minute there."

"Oh, good. You're back," Scorpius sighed. "James gave me the last of the muggle coins. We can get more, of course, but I didn't want to lose you – not when my two favorite people are there. Wait – don't tell Orion I said that."

Draco's smile at his son's joke was watery and broken. Albus wrapped his arms around his middle and folded over again in his seat as Draco sat down across from him again. He could only half-listen as Scorpius and Draco talked about Orion and the status of Ainsley's name-change paperwork – he couldn't hear much of anything over the voice in his head repeating _he's sick. He's dying. He's sick. He's dying._

"I-I think I have to go," Scorpius stammered after a few minutes. Albus looked up and saw Astoria leaning onto her painted banister, watching them closely with her hand over her face, hiding half of her expression. "The French lady in the phone is telling me I'm out of time. _Oui, oui,_ " Scorpius said in an irritated reply to the payphone. " _Je connais_."

"Be safe, Scorpius," Draco said. "Take care of yourself."

Scorpius faltered a bit before answering.

"I will. Love you," Scorpius said. "Albus?"

"Come home soon," Albus pled, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Please."

"I will," Scorpius assured him. "Faster than you can say 'hippogriff.'"

"I love you," Albus said. He waited for Scorpius' reply, but the line went dead. The phone beeped three times and went dark. Albus stared at it for a moment before looking up at Draco, who was leaning on the table with his hands folded under his chin and his mouth pressed into a hard line. The severity of Draco's features had returned, and Albus saw a flash of the father Scorpius had struggled to understand as a child. Why wasn't he more shaken? Why wasn't he screaming the way Albus wanted to?

"D'you think he heard me?" Albus asked.

"I don't think he had to," Draco assured him. "The fact that we love him is exactly why he couldn't tell us."

"All we can do is wait?" Albus asked. Draco gave a solemn nod.

"All we can do is wait and hope that he finds out who cursed Astoria's family, though if he doesn't I will throw every single resource I can at it. I'll hire every out-of-work scholar in England if I have to, though I suspect this is something he feels he has to do on his own," Draco speculated. Albus didn't care much for that idea. More than anything he wanted to help and know that Scorpius trusted him to do so. "And then we have to hope that the counter curse potion is accurate."

"That's a lot to hope for," Albus said shakily. It was too much to hope for – especially for the Son of Voldemort and the Slytherin Squib. Memories of bullying and bad luck came rushing back, and Albus' hands began to twitch.

"Yes, it is," said Draco, his voice wavering for the first time. They sat in still, disturbed silence for a long time under Astoria's gaze, which Albus pointedly avoided. Albus neglected to return to work that afternoon, opting instead to check and double check that there was an adequate amount of each of the potion ingredients, but Draco had already ordered more than double what James had asked for, and Albus had the sneaking suspicion that the actual recipe called for far less than an entire Chimaera egg.

* * *

Scorpius lay on the creaky hotel bed, twisted into an awkward but comfortable position that kept his healing bruises from contact with the springs. They'd fled Nice as early as possible and wound up in a dingy muggle hotel in Paris under false names. Scorpius listened to the muted bustle of the busy street below and carefully pushed his mended glasses back up his nose, mindful of the bruise that had spread across his cheek from his and James' graceless encounter with the Dementors. It didn't hurt so much when he was reading the stolen journal, he realized. Having retrieved what he'd come for was enough to dull the pain.

He was enjoying the quiet when James returned, wrapped sandwiches for dinner in hand and a tall bottle of blood replenishing potion.

"Did you talk to your dad?" James asked.

Scorpius nodded. "Albus was there too," he said.

Something in Scorpius' tone must have given away his unease, because James paused near the bed, looking down at him with concern. Scorpius lay the journal face down on his chest, holding open the page.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Scorpius said. "I just…" He swallowed hard. Being honest with James wasn't going to come easily, he realized, but they had to start somewhere. "I just want to go home so bad it hurts."

James nodded, understanding. After their talk the previous night, James had understood Scorpius' reluctance to go home before finding the missing piece.

"I know," James assured him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I miss my family and Ainsley too."

He passed Scorpius his sandwich, which he unwrapped greedily. Had he not been so tired, Scorpius would have squealed with glee when he found it was roast beef.

"Thanks," Scorpius said. James just nodded.

They ate in comfortable silence as Scorpius thumbed through the journal and James scanned some of the other stolen parchment. He thumbed through entry after entry, reading and re-reading carefully for anything that could lead him to who'd cursed his ancestor. He stumbled across a particular passage and read it three times before allowing himself to hope.

"I think I found something," he said. James threw the remainder of his sandwich down instantly and scrambled to Scorpius' side to look over his shoulder. Scorpius wrote down the entry date on the back of his hand, lest he forget.  29 May, 1668.

"I can't read her handwriting," James said.

"She's talking about an altercation between Abel – who seems to have been well-liked at this point – and an out of towner over Abel's niece who was his ward. Apparently, she decided to marry a squib and Abel was allowing it and this man took exception."

"Was it someone important?"

"She doesn't give a name," Scorpius said, frustrated and flipping through the pages surrounding the entry. He pointed to the section discussing the duel – a bloody and violent affair held on the grounds of the Gringras Estate only days before the planned wedding.

"Her grammar is awful," James said, squinting at the page. "I know English at that time was a mess, but still. Capitalization and periods are important."

"I had no idea you were such a stickler for grammar," Scorpius muttered.

"My mum works for the _Daily Prophet_ ," James reminded him. "Certain things got passed along."

"That sentiment didn't get passed along to Albus," Scorpius assured him.

James laughed. "No, it absolutely didn't."

"Her writing comes and goes," Scorpius told him. "It's tidy in some parts and not in others. It makes me wonder how reliable she is."

James hummed in agreement, following Scorpius' finger along the words as he read the most important line.

" _Lord Abel duel'd the Brute and hath fallen this afternoon,_ " Scorpius read. " _The Brute hath said this wast his true punishment f'r betraying his Blood, and his Blood wouldst betray him._ "

"Well, that doesn't tell us anything," James sighed.

"It tells us everything," Scorpius realized. A broad grin spread across his face, causing the bruise on his cheekbone to throb, but he didn't much care. He leapt to his feet in his excitement, standing on the lopsided bed and bouncing on the balls of his feet, nearly throwing James from the edge. "This tells us everything!"

"I'm not following," James admitted.

"It gives us a _date_!" Scorpius yelled. "A date!"

Scorpius watched James come to the same realization and jump from the bed to the ground.

"Newspapers," James said.

"Newspapers!" Scorpius yelled, holding the journal close to his chest. "Thank Merlin for Margery – the most important literate maid of the seventeenth century."

"What do we do now?" James asked. He began throwing their scattered belongings back into their rucksacks indiscriminately. It didn't much matter whose things landed in which bag – they were going to the same place.

"The library in Oxford has the biggest collection of periodicals," Scorpius said. "It's a satellite of the one I work for – well, likely _worked_ for now. I don't suppose I still have a job –"

"Focus, Scorpius," James said kindly.

"Right, right." Scorpius shook his head to clear it. "Oxford. Periodicals from the beginning of June, 1668. Though… I'm not going to be able to go inside myself."

"We'll figure something out," James said. Scorpius nodded, wracking his brain for a solution until James spoke and halted him with a single, blissful thought.

"We're going home, aren't we?" James realized.

"I think so."

* * *

                                                      

Of course he was going to have to fight a Chimaera, and with Albus' luck it was likely to take his partially-healed and less-painful leg off with a single snap of its massive jaws.

Albus walked around the cage in his old, worn-in Quidditch boots. They were easy to maneuver in and had never let him down before, so Albus had dug them out of the back of his closet and laced them back up. The familiar tap of the heel against the stone floor was soothing somehow. It sounded like his pre-game pacing ritual in the dormitory, and he could almost hear Scorpius telling him that everything would be fine – he could easily catch the snitch.

Except this time, he had to catch an egg against two Chimaeras in a cage. If he'd had more space, Albus would have happily done it on a broom just like his father in the Triwizard Tournament – swooping up and down to avoid the dragon…

Albus shook his head, trying not to think of his fourth-year adventures, though in some ways he was grateful for the fixation. Throwing himself into this task had been an excellent distraction, and at least now he felt like he was doing _something_.

The Chimaeras had built the nest at the center of the cage where they could best protect it. The female was curled around it but watched Albus' every move while the male paced around his mate. It was going to be difficult to get around them. Albus looked at the straight path from the door to the nest and eyed the straw that lined the cage for anything he could trip over. He stared at it, and the female stared at him menacingly, her greenish tail coiled tight around the barely-visible eggs.

"Lion's head and a lion's teeth," Albus muttered. "An overgrown goat's body and hooves, and a poisonous dragon's tail. You'd make a great pet."

The male growled at him, and Albus understood why Newt Scamander had given the beast a XXXXX rating. He'd seen less menacing adult dragons. Albus bounced on his feet, resorting to giving himself a pep-talk since Scorpius wasn't there to do it for him.

"Come on," Albus said to himself, jumping and shaking out his arms and legs. "Come on, you helped take down a dragon as big as a small mountain," he reminded himself. "You've even dueled alongside the great Harry Potter – you can do this. It's just a cage and an egg and a bloodthirsty beast that just ate half a cow and looks like it could eat another."

He shook out his bad leg again and cracked his knuckles before reaching into his bag and withdrawing the padded container for the egg he'd made from a sturdy lunchbox, his wand, and the invisibility cloak. He knew there wasn't much that could hurt it, and hoped that it would give him a bit of an edge against the beasts. Albus was just shaking out the dust when a creaking noise from behind him made him jump. He turned quickly, wand raised, to see his Uncle Charlie slipping into the room and closing the door, locking it behind himself.

"You idiot," Charlie growled at him, stalking over from the door to where Albus stood, flabbergasted. "You are _just_ like your father, you know that?"

"No, I'm not," Albus muttered, though he knew exactly what Charlie was about to say and had no defense.

"Trying to do everything by yourself. Did you think I wouldn't see this?"

Charlie held up the shift-sheet labeled 'Chimaera' where Gwendolyn's name was crossed out and _Albus Potter_ was scribbled in with bright green ink. Albus pursed his lips, rocking on his feet.

"I didn't really think about it."

"Like I said," Charlie said, teeth gritted. " _Just_ like your father. And your mother, for that matter. You know I'm here to help."

"I didn't really think about it," Albus repeated. "Besides, you've done enough. You _found_ them for Merlin's sake."

"Albus, you've got to start using your head," Charlie said, stripping off his jacket and tossing it atop Albus' things on the floor. "You've got to think about who's around that can help you. You and your boyfriend really need to get over doing everything by yourselves." Albus opened his mouth to protest but Charlie held up a hand to silence him. "I know you usually rely on Scorpius and that's fine. It usually works for you. But he's not here right now so you have to weigh your options. Besides, it's not like I don't know what I'm doing, so I'm going in there with you. This isn't a one-person job."

Albus swallowed hard and looked down. He _did_ usually rely on Scorpius for everything and they'd always gotten by just fine like that. What was he going to do if…

The male Chimaera growled at them. Albus and Charlie growled back.

"Sorry," Albus apologized. Normally he would have argued and defended his decision – that this was _his_ job to help his fiancé, it was _his_ responsibility to keep Scorpius safe and healthy, and it was _him_ who should be put in danger and no one else – but Albus was drained and realized he wasn't thinking clearly at all. Charlie was right – what _was_ he doing here alone?

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, suspicious. Albus gripped the invisibility cloak tighter. More than anything he wanted to grab the egg and get home. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell his parents about Scorpius yet, but a hug from his mother or sister would go a long way to helping him sleep tonight.

 _Who am I kidding_? Albus thought. _I'm probably never sleeping again_.

"Al, do we need to talk?"

Albus swallowed down his feelings and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to dwell.

"Can I tell you after?" Albus choked. "Please – I want to get this over with."

Charlie regarded him for a moment. Eventually, he nodded and rolled up his sleeves, drawing his wand. Albus followed suit and looked at his uncle, who seemed relieved that Albus was waiting for instruction.

"I'm going to go in first. You put the cloak on and I'll distract them. Get the egg and get out as quick as you can, and try not to make any sound," Charlie said. "Walk lightly – they'll lash out with their tails if you don't and then they'll know where you are."

"Okay," Albus agreed. "But what if they hurt you? I don't want you getting injured because of me."

"I'm here because I want to be," Charlie reminded him. He gave Albus a sideways grin. "Besides – we've both helped take down dragons before, haven't we?"

Albus smiled at his uncle's pride. "Yeah, we have."

"Alright, then," Charlie said, approaching the lock. "Let's do this."

Charlie tapped the lock with his wand, stripping the enchantments that kept the cage secure one by one. Albus looked over his shoulder and checked the lock on the room again. Only a few security guards roamed the halls this late at night, and no one expected the facility to be silent with all these beasts pacing and prowling about.

The deadbolt slid back at a tap of Charlie's wand, and Albus held his breath. The male Chimaera turned, its gaze locked onto them.

"Put that cloak on," Charlie instructed. Albus did as he was told and tied the cord under the hood tight to keep it in place. He gripped his wand tight in one hand and wrapped the lunchbox strap around his other wrist as Charlie slowly opened the door, drawing a long creak from the hinges.

Both Chimaeras stared at them, frozen in confusion as Charlie stepped over the threshold. Albus stepped in after him and tapped Charlie's shoulder to let him know he was inside. Charlie closed the door with a flick of his wand, and the deadbolt clicked into place.

The Chimaeras wouldn't be able to escape easily, but neither could they.

"Alright," Charlie said, staring down the beasts. He walked sideways to his right, drawing their gaze and watching them, unblinking. Albus took careful steps down the other side of the cage, moving as lightly as possible to avoid crunching the straw beneath his boots. His heart pounded in his chest and his pulse beat against his eardrums so loud that he barely heard Charlie speak.

"Come on. I'm over here," Charlie said, his eyes flickering from the male as it began growling at him to the female who was still coiled around her nest. He held onto the cage bars with one hand, his wand half-raised.

Albus turned down the corner of the cage, taking a few more steps until he found himself right behind the female's back. Charlie was waiting – observing the beasts as they observed him in kind, sizing each other up to figure out how dangerous the other party was and Albus was certain they were well on the losing side. The male Chimaera was drawn to full height and it was as tall as Draco or Scorpius at only its shoulder. The female was only marginally smaller, Albus knew, but the poison in her tale was twice as lethal.

Charlie seemed to be waiting for something, so when Albus was certain neither of the beasts could see him, he drew back the cloak just enough to raise his wand where Charlie could see, and with a nod, Charlie raised his wand.

"Ready?" he asked, knowing Albus couldn't respond. Albus freed his hands and waited.

" _Aguamenti."_

Charlie cast a blast of water at the male, who responded quickly, steam pouring from its nostrils. They couldn't breathe fire – _thank Merlin_ , Albus thought – but their breath was hot enough to burn blisters onto human skin. With a single bound the Chimaera was nearly on Charlie who, with grace that defied his age, swung himself up the side of the cage to hang onto the top bar, nearly out of reach.

Enraged, the male Chimaera swiped at him, narrowly missing Charlie's leg. Albus was horrified when Charlie let out a laugh.

" _Confringo!_ "

Charlie cast a quick series of blasting curses at the male's feet, and Albus realized he was doing all he could not to damage the beasts. He tried and failed several times to immobilize them, but most Chimaeras were impervious to hexes and jinxes – their best bet was simply to keep them distracted.

Seeing her mate dance around the blasts at his hooves was enough to pull the female from her nest. She uncoiled herself, drawing out her tale and growling at Charlie as she stood. She lashed out, the spike at the end of her tail narrowly missing Albus' invisible leg, and he froze, feeling the air move around him. He held his breath. That was entirely too close.

As she stepped over her nest, Albus got a good look at the eggs for the first time. They were oblong with thin, silvery shells that showed the thick, swirling fluid inside. In a few weeks' time, the infant Chimaeras would be visible through the shells with their pulsing heartbeats and developing limbs, but now all he could see was a viscous liquid with a shifting, light glow. It hurt Albus to take one – to know they would break the shell and snuff out a potential life (and even worse – one of an endangered species), but he had no alternative.

There were six eggs in all, and Albus knew the female hadn't moved much since laying her eggs – no one had been able to get an accurate count. In fact, Magorian had been hoping Albus would see enough to give him a guess.

 _Five_ , Albus thought. _It's a one-word lie._

Though the cage was big, it wasn't big enough with two fully-grown Chimaeras, and the female's lethal tale hung over her nest while she bared her massive teeth at Charlie. Her growl was worse than her mate's and somehow, it reminded Albus of his mother and grandmother whenever they'd felt their children were threatened…

"Fine," Charlie grumbled. He cast another blasting curse, this time at the female's leg, and _finally_ , she moved toward him and away from the nest, rearing back to swipe at Charlie, who took a wild swing and grabbed onto the top bars of the cage, swinging over her back before dropping down beside them, landing cat-like and drawing them a few meters further from the nest.

"Now would be the time, Albus," Charlie growled. Albus crept closer to the nest and crouched down, slipping his hand beneath the egg that lay on top. He cradled it gently and opened the lunchbox with his other hand before lowering the translucent egg carefully into the padding he'd prepared. He arranged it carefully to protect the egg and cast a freezing charm over it under his breath before securing the clasp and hoisting it onto his shoulder.

Albus stood just in time to see the Chimaeras corner Charlie, who had to climb back up the side of the cage to get away from them. The male let out a menacing growl and snapped his jaws at Charlie's leg, tearing into the flesh and ripping away part of his khakis. Charlie cried out and his grip slipped as the female snapped at him, preparing to bite.

Albus reacted immediately when he saw the blood running down his uncle's calf. " _Protego!_ "

The Chimaeras hit the shield he'd cast around Charlie and turned to face the direction of the sound, offended and wild-eyed. The female instinctively moved back toward her nest and thus towards Albus, who backed away carefully, moving on his toes to minimize the noise. He cast a blasting curse as far away from Charlie as he could, causing straw and debris to fly upwards. The male leapt into the area and swung around frantically, trying to locate the intruder, and Albus moved back towards the cage door.

He cast another blasting curse close to the male, earning a great roar of frustration as he started swiping with his hooves at the straw and floor. The diversion created a clear path for Charlie from his corner to the door. Charlie's eyes flickered from the beasts to the latch and Albus slid it back quickly to let Charlie know he was there.

As soon as the bolt was back, Charlie leaped down from his place and ran towards the door, limping and staggering but quick – as if he'd done this a million times. When he got near enough, Albus threw open the door and let Charlie run through it before leaping back across the threshold himself. Charlie relocked the door with a fast spell and let himself sink to the floor, breathing hard.

"Bloody hell," Charlie groaned, examining the gashes and blister on his leg. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Albus threw off the invisibility cloak and set the egg-carrier down gently before kneeling at his uncle's side.

"Damn," Albus cringed. "I'm so sorry – you shouldn't have been in there."

"They would have eaten you, Albus," Charlie deadpanned. "Besides, I've had worse. Did I ever show you the Ironbelly scar on my back? It's got a tattoo over it now, but it's still pretty gnarly…"

Charlie trailed off as Albus sank down to the stone floor beside him, crestfallen with his head in his hands. It was all too much – Ainsley being sick, James and Scorpius running off, Scorpius being ill and now Uncle Charlie injured because he just wanted to help his nephew. Albus scrambled the few meters to where his bag lay and returned with a bottle of dittany. His hands shook as he unstoppered the bottle and a bit spilled onto the floor.

"Whoa there," Charlie said. He held Albus' hands still for a moment before gently taking the bottle from him. "Al, I'm fine – I've had way worse, I swear. This will barely sting in a couple hours."

Charlie applied drops of the solution to the cuts expertly, and scourgified the blood from the floor before sitting up and looking at Albus, who kept apologizing.

"I'm sorry," Albus said, shaking his head. "I should have told you I was going to be here tonight. You'd still have gotten hurt, maybe. But maybe you wouldn't have been irritated and it wouldn't have happened. Maybe we could have had an actual plan instead of –"

"Al, it's okay," Charlie said. He placed both hands on his nephew's shoulders. "You need to calm down. Deep breath."

Albus took a deep, shuddering breath to center himself but didn't find it to be much help. He looked up at Charlie and saw worry in his uncle's eyes and everything came tumbling out at once.

"Scorpius has the curse too," he said quickly. It was the first time he'd said the words aloud and his voice wavered. "The thing Ainsley has. I talked to him earlier today and he sounds terrible and he's still trying to cover it up. And my brother and my fiancé took off and don't trust me to help them or something – I don't know. I don't know what's happening, Charlie."

Charlie stared at him, dumbfounded and open-mouthed for a moment.

"Sweet Merlin," he said finally. "No wonder you look terrible."

"Thanks," Albus muttered, sarcastic.

Charlie fell silent, at a complete loss while Albus tried to gather himself, biting back the frustrated tears that had been just below the surface all day.

"No really," Albus said once his voice was steady. "Thank you for all your help. You always come through. I don't know how you do it."

Charlie reached up to ruffle Albus' hair but saw the blood on his palm and thought better of it.

"You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age," Charlie admitted. "You were always my favorite nephew."

"I won't tell anyone you said that."

"Please don’t," Charlie laughed. "They'll murder me at Christmas."

Albus looked over his shoulder at the Chimaeras. They were prowling around the edges with crazed eyes and menacing growls. The female eyed Charlie as if she would have liked another go at him. It sent a shiver down Albus' spine as he watched her – dangerous, beautiful, and endangered – and lamented that he'd just had to steal one of her young.

Charlie opened the egg carrier with the utmost care and peered inside at the egg. Albus was afraid to look himself until he saw Charlie smile.

"Perfect specimen," he said. "The eggs are beautiful, aren't they?"

Albus peered in at the egg – perfectly safe an in-tact. The swirling he had seen earlier was already slowing down and the glow was fading under the influence of his freezing charm.

"I feel awful," Albus admitted. "Taking one like that. There's so few Chimaera out there."

"There's so few out there because they kill one another," Charlie reminded him. "Not because we've been killing them off. There's only one record of a wizard taking one out completely. Capturing them, yes – but even I needed help doing that."

"The friends that came with you to bring them? Did they help you with the capture?"

"They did," Charlie confirmed, feeling over the new flesh that was forming over his wounds.  "I've known the Gabore family since my first years in the field in Romania. We still travel together from time to time or take assignments."

"The woman – what was her name?"

"Bianca."

"Bianca. Is she your girlfriend?"

Charlie laughed and it echoed around the room, earning another menacing growl from inside the cage. He waved to the Chimaeras as if to apologize.

"Heavens, no," Charlie said. He seemed to consider his next words for a moment before looking at Albus. "I did date her cousin for a while."

"Was she as pretty?"

Charlie smirked. "Yeah, he was."

Albus stared at his uncle, open-mouthed. Occasionally, he had overheard various family members question why Charlie had never been married and never brought home a girlfriend. Over the years, those questions had turned into musings on whether Charlie even _had_ relationships, and if they were with women.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Albus asked, hurt.

"Because I was never serious enough about anyone to bring them to my family," Charlie sighed. "And it was just never something that came up since I wasn't living in England. Bill knows. I think mum and dad do too, and everyone suspects, but it's never been something that came up since I'm married to my work."

"But no one would have judged you," Albus protested. "They would have been happy if you'd been happy."

"But I wasn't happy, Albus," Charlie said, shaking his head. "I was miserable as a teenager. It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I really started dating – both men and women, mind you. The magizoology community is tight-knit when you're out in the field and it's easy to just fall into relationships. By the time I was comfortable with it…"

Charlie trailed off. It took Albus a second to recognize that he was uncomfortable – he'd never seen his confident, brilliant Uncle Charlie uncomfortable with anything before – and he sat back on his heels to give Charlie some space and glanced down to his leg. The wounds were covered with a thin layer of skin and the burns were losing their redness

"By the time I was thinking of bringing someone home I was in Romania and I was absolutely in love with Nicholae Gabor – Bianca's cousin. I was planning on bringing him home for a visit and coming out to my family."

"What happened?"

Charlie fiddled with the leather band of his watch for a moment, drawing his knee up to his chest.

"Dragon accident. He died," Charlie said. "A diseased Longhorn went mad. He and I were trying to administer a treatment. He was a brilliant dragon healer. That was a very long time ago."

Albus knew well what a dragon rampage looked like – the fire, the screaming and the confusion. He'd not been far when Carlos had died in the Opaleye's rampage in Brazil, and he couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if he'd had to watch a loved one die that way.

"You saw it happen?" Albus asked before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted it when he saw the pain on Charlie's face.

"I did," Charlie said. "And I never met anyone else I cared about the way I cared about Nicholae. So if you've ever wondered why I'll always go out of my way to help you – that's why. You're a lot like me, Albus – in more ways than you thought and I just want you to have a better time of it because you deserve that."

"You do too," Albus whined. Everything ached, and the closer they got to midnight the more confident Albus was that this was one of the longest and strangest days of his life. He hung his head, staring down at his knees. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine… but I guess I can. Or I'll have to, because Scorpius -"

"Look at me, kid," Charlie demanded, and Albus reluctantly looked back at his uncle to find him smiling. "You've got your Chimaera egg. Everything is going to be okay, and –" Charlie held up his hand to silence Albus' interruption ("but it might not be. We still don't know"). "And if it isn't all okay, you'll know without a doubt that you did everything you could and sometimes that’s all you can hope for."

Albus thought about it for a moment, his heart and mind still reeling from the developments of the last five minutes (and the last hour. And the rest of the day), and decided that this was the most comforting thing anyone had said to him for weeks.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Charlie sat back, seeming pleased with himself for helping.

"Now, as much as I'd love to stay here for the rest of your shift – because you _do_ look awful and I really _don't_ want to leave you alone - I need to take some healing potion," Charlie said.

"There's enough to make a ton of it at my house," Albus said quickly. "Just go there and I'll send for Lily to help – I know she's at my parents' house tonight. I'd say go there but dad can't actually see the egg – just in case."

"Understood," Charlie said. Albus helped him to his feet and handed him the egg carrier. "I'll take this back and put it on ice."

"Thank you, Charlie," Albus said. "For everything."

Charlie smiled and ruffled Albus' hair roughly, and Albus was grateful enough to hold back his groan of disapproval.

"Don't worry about it," Charlie said. "See you in a few hours."

Albus watched Charlie cross the room with careful steps. He was so grateful that Charlie had come to help him, but was even more grateful that he'd opened up to him. The child inside him that hung on his uncle's every word was gleeful that now Charlie had confided in him about something so important.

"Uncle Charlie?" Albus called as Charlie reached the door. Charlie looked over his shoulder.

"Yup?"

"Will you tell me about him someday?" Albus asked. "Nicholae. I'd really like to hear about him."

Charlie's weathered face twisted into a smile – mournful, but relieved. He nodded, grasping the door handle. "I'd like that."

After Charlie slipped from the room, Albus sat down against the wall and watched as the Chimaeras settled in. The female wrapped herself back around her nest, unaware of the missing egg, while the male took his place by the door. He stretched his long body in front of it, nearly reaching each corner of the cage when sprawled at full length.

It was the first real moment of quiet for Albus since lunch, and he thought long and hard about the day. His chest hadn't felt quite right since he and Draco had talked, and even now it felt strange, like something was either missing or was taking up too much space – he couldn't tell which.

What he did know was that he wasn't irrationally angry with Scorpius anymore, and that was a huge relief, even if that space had been filled with fear and uncertainty about their future. He was still hurt that he'd been excluded, but he understood now and that, coupled with finally having the Chimaera egg, felt like a small win.

* * *

Albus came home in the early hours of the morning to find Charlie snoring loudly on the couch. Silently, Albus peeled back his blanket and checked the wounds on his leg and was pleased to find that they were well on their way to being completely healed. He grabbed the empty potion glass and stowed it in the sink before heading up the stairs toward the bedroom, taking great pride in stepping over the floating stair.

When he opened the door, he was shocked to find that his bed was already occupied by Zar, who had the audacity to be laying on Albus' pillow, and a red-haired somebody who was wrapped so tightly in the blankets that Albus couldn't see their face. Zar spotted his human and began beating his tail against the interloper who groaned and rolled over.

Lily sat up and blinked at Albus before falling back against the pillows.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I went into one of the guest rooms but the sheets smelled dusty. Figured they were all the same so I came in here."

"You guessed right," Albus said. Lily moved to get up, but Albus waved her back down. He pulled off his boots and slipped into his closet, changing quickly and gracelessly into an old pair of Scorpius' pajamas from Hogwarts.

("I'm too tall for these now," Scorpius had gloated after his seventh-year growth spurt. "You take them. They're soft.")

He stumbled back into the bedroom to find Lily sitting up, ordering Zar off the bed. The dog sulked down to the foot of the mattress and looked back at her longingly, but Lily stood firm and pointed at the floor. Zar jumped down and collapsed dramatically into a heap near Albus' side.

"He's a bit needy," Albus confirmed.

"He's a bit loud," Lily said. "Dog snores worse than dad."

"I don't think that's possible," Albus said. "When dad does sleep, he sounds like the Hogwarts Express."

Lily snorted with laughter as Albus collapsed onto the bed beside her. He was too tired to question why she'd decided to sleep at Grimauld Place instead of flooing back to their mum and dad's or why she'd decided to stay in Albus and Scorpius' bedroom instead of finding clean sheets or sleeping on one of the sofas. When she looked down at him with concern and sympathy, however, he found he didn't have to ask.

"Charlie told you," Albus said simply.

Lily nodded and pulled the blanket up higher around her brother, tucking it around him. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," she admitted. "I know if I'd found out something like that… well, I wouldn't be sleeping."

Albus looked up at her. There hadn't been many occasions when they were children for Lily to comfort Albus – it was usually the other way around – but she'd certainly risen to the occasion now. She'd been checking in on him without being intrusive or overbearing, which Albus had appreciated greatly in his frustration.

But today had been very different, and Lily seemed to know that.

"I'm really scared, Lily," Albus admitted, shaky.

"I know you are," Lily said softly. It reminded him so much of Grandma Molly that it hurt. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to leave you alone so you can sleep?"

"No," Albus said quickly, surprising himself with the sentiment. "No, please stay If you don't mind."

"My big brother needs me," Lily said. "Of course I'll stay."

She sank back down beside Albus and lay her head against his shoulder, hugging him tight the way she did when they were children.

"Remember when you used to come into my room when you had nightmares?" Albus asked. The strong, confident young woman he saw now was a far cry from the crying little girl who would crawl into his bed at two o'clock in the morning talking about monsters in the shadows outside her window.

Lily laughed tiredly. "Yeah, because dad had nightmares too and he was useless if you were scared in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, but his fake-vanquishing of the fake-monsters under the bed was quite a show."

"It really was," Lily agreed. "Thank God only you got his drama-gene."

"Hey!"

"You know it's true," Lily yawned. "You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"This is the first time you've been in a bed with a woman as an adult," Lily said.

"Sometimes I hate you," Albus retorted.

"You love me," Lily said.

Albus knew he didn't need to tell her she was right.

* * *

Scorpius had a pile of muggle coins in front of him. It was stifling in the phone booth, but he didn't much care as he watched the Oxford University students rush up and down the cobbled street juggling books and computers while they talked or typed on their phones. He was jealous – the small black boxes were much more useful and convenient than dealing with the payphones, but Scorpius didn't fancy trying his luck with them again.

This time, though, he was sure the static on the line wasn't his fault. While he watched the students rushing along, James was a few blocks up Bradmore Road deep under the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism where the affiliated wizarding library was held.

"I wish the muggles knew this was here," James muttered into the microphone. He'd grabbed a headset at a shop to free up his hands for the day's task, but Scorpius was still worried that he'd be kicked out for being on the phone. "They'd lose it if they knew there was an entire floor of witches and wizards under one of their colleges."

"Well, let's be glad they don't," Scorpius said. "They have a tendency to try and destroy things that are different."

"So do we."

Scorpius hummed in agreement, feeding the phone yet another coin. He'd been cooped up in the booth for nearly two hours now as James got into the library and started searching, dictating his every move to Scorpius.

"Okay," James sighed. "Finally. June 1668."

Scorpius stood straighter, hanging on James' every word as he muttered headlines, going through _Wizarding World News_ , _The Wizard's Voice_ , _The Daily Prophet_ , and _The New York Ghost_ just for good measure.

"Something about the Ollivander family… ah, one of the Yaxleys was arrested for murder – good to know nothing ever changes," James murmured. "I'm not really seeing anything in here, mate."

A muggle tapped on the glass of the phone booth and Scorpius nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. He instinctively reached for his wand, only to remember that it lay in pieces in the bag at his feet. He motioned for the muggle to go away and the man made a rude hand gesture before kicking the door and stalking off.

"Everything okay?" James asked, worried.

"Fine," Scorpius said quickly. "Just some muggles wanting to use the phone. Keep looking."

"Okay, but I'm getting into the smaller papers now," James warned. He chuckled a bit. "This looks to be Ye Olde Quibbler – you'd love it."

"Sounds fascinating," Scorpius deadpanned. "Anything else?"

"I'm looking. You never know…"

Scorpius listened to James shuffling about as he turned through every page of every paper from June 1668. He read some of the old headlines from a paper and Scorpius translated them to modern English, scribbling down phrases and consulting a worn dictionary from a secondhand shop when his knowledge failed him. He couldn't help laughing when James came across a paper geared toward witches – _Bewitch him with enchanting hair_ could have been a headline from today's _Witch Weekly._

"God, this one is horrible," James said of another paper. "Listen to this – 'Wizards who associate with muggles are traitors to their kind and should be removed from our society, lest their ideas grow.'"

"Yeah, it was pretty rough at the time. Without adequate communication, some of the wizarding communities were isolated and prevalent attitude toward muggles seemed to be based on which was the closest powerful family at the time. It's really awful –"

"I found something," James interrupted. "Hold on."

Scorpius' heart skipped a beat. He gripped the phone tight, his free hand on the dictionary, ready to translate at any given moment. When the line stayed silent for too long though, he began to worry.

"James?"

"Okay, this paper seems to have the same integrity as _The Quibbler,_ mind you," James said as a warning. "But there's a piece on the Gringras family. It's short – says that Abel died after a duel with an associate of the paper. It talks about the niece and her upcoming wedding to the squib, and the reporter cannot confirm that the wedding had anything to do with the duel, but he calls Abel weak…"

James trailed off for a moment. A strong breeze rattled the phone booth and the door rattled against its frame. He grabbed the handle to steady it and held on tight.

"James?"

"Listen to this – 'However, I has't on reliable authority from the edit'r of our humble publication yond the Gringras family shall not beest a blight upon our society much longer.' Sounds serious."

"You didn't tell me which paper you're looking at," Scorpius said.

"Um." Scorpius heard a considerable rustling while James looked around. "It's pretty dramatic. It's called _Warlock at War._ "

Scorpius was grateful he was holding onto something as his knees went weak. His hands went numb as he dug in his memory – why was the name of that paper familiar? And why were his hands shaking?

And then it dawned on him.

"T-the editor of that paper?"

"Yeah, that's what it says."

Scorpius sighed and sank against the wall of the phone booth, closing his eyes and removing his glasses.

"Does it have an editorial page? Or is the newspaper staff listed somewhere?"

"Let me look," James said.

 _Please let me be remembering this wrong_ , Scorpius thought, rubbing his eyes and accidentally pressing against the bruise on his cheek. He was astounded to find he barely felt it. He barely felt anything and only heard the turn of pages on the other end of the line, followed by a brief silence and then James' gasp of surprise.

Scorpius didn't need to ask who it was, and James seemed to know they didn't need to talk about it. He simply said, "I'll be right up" and the line went dead, confirming Scorpius' suspicions.

The answers to his questions had likely been close all along. He could have asked James to stay down there and dig up more information, but why not go straight to the source? After all, _Warlock at War's_ owner and editor was Brutus Malfoy, and his portrait was sitting dusty and frozen in his father's attic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a million thanks to [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for being the fastest beta-reader ever.
> 
> I've been told the "coming soon" piece is popular, but it's pointless here. You know what the next chapter is.
> 
> [Say hi.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	16. Legacy

James walked out of the pub with Oxford's sole Floo connection looking despondent. He shrugged at Scorpius who watched from under the hood of his jacket, desperate to keep his face from view while in the more wizard-centric part of town.

"It's closed. They're doing some kind of repair on the fireplace and it won't be ready until tonight," James said. "I think we're near enough that I can apparate, though."

"You _think_?"

"Wiltshire isn't that far," James said. "And I've been apparating larger distances for work recently."

Scorpius groaned. He'd never liked apparition, but it seemed he was out of options. They couldn't file for a Portkey from here. They would have been close enough to fly, but Oxford was a college city and didn't have a proper broom store even in its wizarding quarters. They might be able to find one at the second-hand shop, but that would be taking a risk of being recognized.

"I hate apparating," Scorpius admitted. "I got my license and think I've used it twice since."

"It's one jump," James promised, leading him into an alley behind the pub. Scorpius followed him, chancing a look up at the sky where clouds were beginning to roll in.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Scorpius asked, pulling back his hood. "Because if you splinch us I will die. That's certain." 

James cringed at the thought. "I can do it," James assured him. "Ainsley can't apparate accurately and I've gone longer distances with her."

If anything could reassure Scorpius, it was that. James would never risk Ainsley's safety under any circumstances, so when James held out his arm, Scorpius took it, holding his messenger bag tightly.

In an instant, they were outside the Malfoy Manor gates. Scorpius' sigh of relief at being intact was short-lived as an intense wave of nausea overtook him and the torrential downpour started to soak through his clothes. He threw his bag at James' chest, knocking the wind out of his companion before stumbling away off the path.

Vomiting behind an ash tree was not the triumphant return Scorpius had hoped for, but then again, he hadn't been getting much of what he wanted lately.

"Are you alright?" James called over the rain, worried. Scorpius waved him away, gripping the tree for support.

"I'm good," he called as his stomach tightened again. "Just… stay there."

After another minute of painful retching ("I knew we should have been eating better," James muttered), Scorpius emerged, paler than usual. James handed him a water bottle and Scorpius accepted it gratefully. He caught the eye of a random albino peacock a few meters away. It was eyeing Scorpius with concern and confusion, and Scorpius hoped it wasn't going to attack.

"Really, are you okay?" James asked.

"I'll be fine," Scorpius assured him. He hated feeling so weak and vulnerable and was sure it didn't make him look particularly good to James. "I just hate apparating and I already wasn't feeling well."

"Maybe we should go straight to St. Mungo's."

"No way," Scorpius said, starting up the path. The manor gates weren't far, and Scorpius was eager to get inside and out of the rain. Together, they bowed their heads against the summer storm and walked to the manor. The gates opened quickly at Scorpius' touch, and he was grateful – grateful to be close to help, grateful to have found something so solid to go on, and grateful to be _home_. He looked through his rain-smeared glasses at the manor and was struck with a longing so intense that he was speechless.

They rushed to cover by the manor entrance, and Scorpius stood back to catch his breath as James knocked on the door. It echoed through the atrium and Scorpius listened for footsteps. There was a rapid tapping noise from inside and Scorpius grinned when the door swung back and Dania appeared.

"Scorpius! James!"

Dania swept back quickly. Scorpius noticed she was dressed in tan slacks and a white shirt – her go-to for a shift at Saint Mungo's. Her dark hair was still down and Scorpius was certain they'd caught her just before she left.

Scorpius stepped inside quickly, shedding his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby coat rack.

"It's so good to see you, Dania," Scorpius said. "Truly."

Dania moved to hug him, but got a better look at his face and backed away, agape.

"What happened to your cheek?"

Scorpius reached up and touched the bruise across his cheekbone. He struggled – should he tell her the truth? Did he make something up?

"That's a long story," James deferred, using the rainwater to slick back his hair and get it out of his eyes. "A very long story."

"Where is everyone?" Scorpius asked, removing his soaked, filthy trainers and vowing never to put them on again. He hoped he could dispose of them before his father saw.

"Your father is with Ainsley at Saint Mungo's."

"What?" James said, wide-eyed. "Is she okay? Why would she be –"

Dania held up her hands to calm him, and when James remained frantic she placed them on his shoulders.

"She's fine," Dania said firmly. "It's a check-in. There are restricted ingredients in her potions so she has to be examined every so often. I'd do it myself but you can't prescribe to family."

James breathed a sigh of relief. Scorpius heard faint whimpering from the other room and his heart lurched. He bit back the impulse to go straight to his baby brother and promised himself that when things settled down, he'd spend an entire afternoon playing with him and cuddling him.

"Damn, Orion's awake," Dania said. She was anxious, and it showed. "Stay here – just let me go get him."

Dania kept talking to them as she walked away, saying something about how worried they'd all been and how happy she was to see them, but Scorpius wasn't listening. Instead, he started climbing the grand staircase, headed toward the attic.

 _All this time_ , Scorpius thought bitterly. _And there might have been answers right here._

 _You couldn't have known_ , said a soothing voice that sounded a lot like Astoria.

By the time Scorpius reached the first landing, James had raced to catch up with him. Dania's voice and Orion's cries faded into the background.

"You don't have to come up here," Scorpius said. "It might be best if you don't. You're the son of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and… well, I'm sure you can guess what's in the Malfoy attic."

"The only thing I plan to look at is Brutus Malfoy's painting," James assured him. "I'm coming with you."

Scorpius was thankful. He didn't want to go up there alone. It didn't occur to him until they got to the locked staircase in the ceiling that he was wandless.

"Here," James said when Scorpius faltered under the door. James held out his wand and Scorpius took it, pleased to find that it felt relatively comfortable in his palm. With a quick spell the ladder unfolded and descended, and Scorpius climbed up. Once he reached the top, he stepped onto the small landing. He held his palm to the door and waited for his father's enchantment to recognize him, and was relieved when he heard the lock click back.

Scorpius knew his impatience was getting the better of him as he opened the door and entered the dusty attic. He should have waited for Draco. After all, he'd promised as a child never to come up here alone, but he'd never had reason to. Most of the time, Scorpius pretended this place didn't exist – there was nothing up here he could possibly want amidst cursed jewelry, broken time turners, and all the dark things the Malfoys before him coveted.

"Be careful," Scorpius warned James. "Don't touch anything. I don't know what half this stuff is, but I do know it's likely dangerous."

"Noted," James said, looking around. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and folded his arms, eyeing a pair of earrings with heavy black stones that seemed to suck in the light around them.

Leaning against the back of a green leather sofa was a line of portraits draped in a heavy black velvet cloth. Scorpius pointed to them and James nodded, reluctant but firm.

"Maybe you should step out of view?" Scorpius said. "It might go better if he just sees me, since I'm – you know…" Scorpius trailed off and gestured to himself.

"So obviously a Malfoy?"

He shrugged and nodded. James smirked and stepped off to the side where he'd be out of view from the portrait frame edges.

Scorpius peeled back the velvet cloth, unearthing a small cloud of dust and tossed it onto the sofa. In a neat line was a series of ornate frames with stilled pictures, each bearing a small, gold plaque with the name of its subject – Lucius Malfoy I, Septimus Malfoy, and Abraxas Malfoy all sat in a row to one side, while Brutus Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy II were separated and, surprisingly, were accompanied by a portrait of Narcissa Malfoy.

He felt a familiar unease when he looked at their still faces. His hairline looked a lot like Septimus', and there was no denying that he could have passed for his grandfather's son instead of Draco's. His eye shape, which was subtly different from his father's, looked more like Abraxas' and he seemed to have inherited Brutus' stronger jaw. All had impossibly blonde hair, except for Septimus, who had been depicted later in life with a bright white plait and beard.

Looking at these Malfoy men, he felt like all his mother's influence was imagined. He was clearly one of them.

Scorpius looked at the wand in his hand before taking a breath so deep the back of his throat burned, and he waved it at Brutus' portrait, willing it to reanimate.

He got more than he bargained for. Not only did Brutus' portrait come back to life, but so did Abraxas and Scorpius' grandparents. Only the eldest Lucius and Septimus, who were farther away, remained asleep.

"Damn it," Scorpius muttered through gritted teeth. Narcissa seemed to be the only one coherent enough to notice, and she looked at him.

"Draco?" she asked, confused.

Scorpius shook his head. His grandmother had loved him, and when she and Lucius had died when he was a child of a freak strain of Dragon Pox, he'd missed her.

"No," he answered. "I'm Scorpius."

Her face softened into a smile.

"Of course," she said, her cold voice as warm as it could be. "Of course you are. You're so much older than when I saw you last. How old are you now?"

"Twenty," he said. He felt much older.

Lucius gave a huff and a smug smile. "He looks just like Draco," Lucius said, as if this were an achievement. He looked around, craning as if he could see beyond the confines of his portrait. "Where is he?"

"He's not here," Scorpius said.

"Why on earth are you in the attic alone?" Lucius demanded. "Your father hasn't died, has he?"

"No, father is well."

"Where are we?" Brutus asked. His voice was harsh and his tone severe. "Last I remember we were in that preposterous holiday home of yours, Lucius."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "We were."

In Scorpius' periphery, James shifted uncomfortably, his soggy shoes squishing against the black floorboards. Now more than ever he needed James to stay out of sight – Lucius and Narcissa would surely recognize him as a Weasley, if not a Potter.

"Dad brought you back here," Scorpius explained. "He cleaned out the other house a while ago since we weren't using it."

"Well, catch us up, boy," Abraxas demanded. His voice sounded near identical to his son's. Lucius blanched at his father's tone. "We barely had any interaction back in that dreadful house. Just ourselves to talk to."

"Yes, is everything alright?" Lucius asked. "You don't look well, Scorpius."

"Oh, well it was raining and I've been busy helping clean things up in this attic," Scorpius lied.

"What happened to your eye?" Narcissa asked, genuinely concerned. "Did you fall?"

Abraxas gave a snort of disapproval and spoke to his son. "If I remember correctly _you_ were a clumsy child, Lucius," he said. "Though it seems to have lasted longer on this one."

Scorpius gripped the wand tighter, biting his tongue. He didn't want anything more in common with Lucius than what he was already aware of.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about," Scorpius began, cautious. He chose to start with flattery. "I know you all have a wealth of knowledge about the history of pureblood families across Britain, and some in Europe."

"Indeed," said Abraxas importantly. Scorpius wished he could freeze his great grandfather's portrait exclusively but wasn't sure he knew how.

"Well, I'm in need of some very specific information," Scorpius explained. "Grandfather, grandmother – you remember my mother."

"Of course we do," Lucius said coolly. It was no secret he hadn't been Astoria's fan, and Scorpius wanted nothing more than to give him the long list of reasons why his mother was the best woman in the world, but for his own sake and for Ainsley's he held his tongue.

"I need to know who cursed the Greengrass family," Scorpius said, fighting the urge to shuffle his feet. "I know it was in the 1600s, and I know the last name changed from Gringras not long after."

His eyes swept over the portraits and he was careful not to stare at Brutus for too long. He didn't want to antagonize him if he had any information, and he hoped he wasn't enduring the uncomfortable, scrutinizing stares of his ancestors for nothing. Surely if something had been published in _Warlock at War_ , one of them had to know something…

"Such an embarrassment," Abraxas said. "How could you have let your son marry one of them?"

"Believe me, I tried to prevent it," Lucius spat back. "Weak girl. Too nice, too muggle-loving. I blame her family. They stayed away from muggle society but didn't teach her the importance of doing the same."

Narcissa, notably, said nothing and watched Scorpius with curiosity, her fingers playing over the massive, dark stone necklace around her painted neck.

Abraxas wrinkled his long, hooked nose at Scorpius. "Last we talked with Draco he spoke very highly of you," Abraxas said. "I believe he said you were going into your sixth year at Hogwarts at the time – said you were exceptionally bright and composed, though looking at you now, I don't see it."

Scorpius looked down at his socked feet and damp jeans, shuffling from foot to foot.

"You've caught me on a bad day," Scorpius said, fidgeting with his sleeves. "Back to the Greengrass family –"

"Is that a wedding ring?" Narcissa asked suddenly. "Oh, darling, have you gotten married?"

The tears that welled in his eyes were entirely unwelcome and Scorpius adjusted his glasses, hoping they'd hide it because there was no stopping them. He was exhausted and sore and as he glanced at the thin band on his finger, he wished Albus were there. Everything was easier when Albus was around.

Scorpius chose to simplify things. _Malfoy the Unanxious is an exceptional liar_ , he reminded himself, _and I have to keep lying. Besides, I'm not sure which they'd hate me more for – being gay or marrying a Potter._

"Yes," he said.

"Tell us about her," Narcissa asked. Scorpius knew she meant well – she was genuinely interested in his wife, while Lucius, Brutus and Abraxas nodded and urged him on likely out of curiosity for the security of their genetic line.

"I'd rather introduce you later," Scorpius deflected, entirely unwilling to outright lie and tell them he was with anyone but Albus. That was crossing a line, and he'd already crossed too many. "Perhaps we'll come back when we can."

"I'm sure she's quite lovely," Brutus said, bored. "Hopefully she's better than who your father chose."

Scorpius reached the end of his rope.

"My mum was lovely," Scorpius defended. "And she was taken from us too soon by the curse, which is why I need to know who cursed her family."

"Well, I have no idea," Abraxas said airily. "I didn't associate with such people."

Lucius regarded Scorpius and shook his head silently. He looked into Narcissa's frame and shook his head at her.

"We don't know either," Lucius said.

"Nor I," said Brutus.

Scorpius sighed and rubbed his face, brushing away the water that had run down from his hair.

"I've been looking into it," Scorpius said, daring to focus on Brutus. He understood why Margery had chosen to simply call him 'the Brute.' His gruff voice defied his posh appearance and his snarl was something to behold. "I found an old copy of _Warlock at War_ that mentioned Abel Gringras being cursed and dying not long after, and there was a line that said _you_ could assure the readers that the family and their ways wouldn't be a problem much longer – I think it called them a _blight on our society_ , or something similar."

Brutus sneered. "They were a blight," he said. "A disgrace to the name of wizard. They helped their muggle servants at every turn, offering magical solutions to problems and passing it off as science or divine intervention. That bastard, Abel allowed his niece to marry a squib that should have been cast out or killed as a child. Families like that dilute our blood, boy," Brutus said. "Do not forget that."

Scorpius held his breath, offended on his mother's behalf and Ainsley's.

"I am glad to see you have been married," Abraxas said. "You can start reviving the Malfoy line. I hope your wife's heritage can strengthen it, though if you are as bright as your father once said, I don't doubt it."

Scorpius looked at each of their faces, weighing his options. If the last contact they'd had was just after his sixteenth birthday, then they did not know about Albus, and they didn't know about Dania or Orion either (though he couldn't be sure), which gave him a distinct advantage.

In his periphery, Scorpius could see James standing perfectly still, his arms folded tight across his chest. Scorpius didn't dare look at him, but he could feel the discomfort on his face.

"I won't be reviving anything unless I'm able to break this curse," Scorpius said. "I have what my mother had and I won't pass it along. It's… well, it's quite horrible, to be honest."

Both Lucius and Narcissa cringed.

"I told you," jeered Abraxas to Lucius. "I _told you_."

"Yes, I know," hissed Lucius.

Narcissa looked from her husband to her grandson eagerly. "Have you found a way to break it?"

Scorpius' voice cracked as he told her. "Potentially," he said. "But I need to know who was responsible in the first place and I need to know for sure. Otherwise the Malfoy line dies with me."

That truth struck Abraxas and Brutus hard. Brutus' sneer intensified.

"If you are as weak as she was then you shouldn't be carrying on our bloodline," Brutus spat. "Your father should do his duty and remarry. He should have more children to carry on the Malfoy legacy."

"My father refuses to remarry," Scorpius gambled. "He will not have any more children."

"Then he deserves to watch his bloodline die," Abraxas said. "Clearly, it's too weak to carry on. I blame you, Lucius."

"Of course you do," drawled his grandfather, rolling his eyes and looking up toward the ceiling before asking Scorpius, "why won't he remarry if he knows you are ill?"

"He says my mother was the only woman for him," Scorpius said.

"Lucius," Narcissa cautioned. Lucius only shook his head in shame.

Brutus grumbled even more. "Muggle-loving wizards should live and die as their beloved muggles," he said. "For the sake of our kind they should not have magical children. They should know their place."

Scorpius studied Brutus as he looked around the room – everywhere but at Scorpius himself. The continued rant suddenly seemed personal.

"Perhaps I agree with you, Brutus," Scorpius said. "What makes you think I wouldn't be fit to carry on the Malfoy name?"

"Blood curses are tricky things, boy," Brutus said. "I heard about the one placed on Abel. It wasn't meant to curse each of his descendants equally."

"What do you mean?"

"Lucius told me about your mother and her family. Her sister did not bear the curse, did she?"

Scorpius shook his head, his brow furrowed. "No, Daphne didn't."

"She must have upheld the pureblood ideals," Brutus said with a twisted smile. "She must have been true to our kind, because the curse was only meant to weed out those in Abel's line that defied their blood and wizard-kind by associating with muggles or refusing to keep their family's magic pure in their children. Clearly, Draco chose the wrong sister."

Scorpius' breath became shallow and uneven. A chill settled on him and he thought it was just his body reacting, but James shivered and he knew the temperature drop had been external. He wanted desperately to apologize, but couldn't. His shoulders fell and he stared at Brutus in horror as his ancestor continued.

"So you, boy – you must not be a good example of our kind if you carry the curse," Brutus said.

"So it _was_ you," Scorpius said. He felt a familiar disturbance down the back of his throat and took a few deep breaths to calm himself lest he start bleeding again. He already looked frightening enough, and Dania would insist he go to Saint Mungo's immediately. He didn't need to be any worse when his father saw him.

"I did not say that," Brutus cautioned him.

Narcissa hissed again. "Lucius."

"I do not know what you are, boy," Brutus continued. "But I'm quite certain your father has not raised you as the pureblood gentleman you should be – "

"Regardless," Scorpius began, "I am the last, and I need to know for certain who cursed Abel Gringras."

"And I told you – I do not know," hissed Brutus so aggressively that Scorpius was certain he'd crawl from his portrait and throttle his own descendent if he could.

Narcissa spoke louder. "Lucius."

Scorpius turned from Brutus to see his grandparents staring at one another through their portrait frames. Lucius' jaw was set and Narcissa stared at him with wide, pale eyes.

"Lucius, he is our only grandson," Narcissa said, her voice trembling.

"You hold your tongue, son," Abraxas shushed. "The boy clearly is not one of us."

Lucius ignored him, staring at his wife.

Scorpius cleared his throat. "Grandfather, do you know something?"

"We portraits have been together a long time," Lucius explained, his eyes never leaving Narcissa's. "All we have is our memories, and so we have discussed nearly everything."

Scorpius watched Narcissa mouth three words at her husband as small tears of paint rolled down her cheeks. "Think of Draco."

Lucius looked back to Scorpius in an instant. "It was Brutus," Lucius confirmed. Abraxas' groan was drowned out by Brutus' cry of rage. "It was him."

"Are you positive?" Scorpius asked his grandfather quickly. "I don't know what will happen to me if I try the cure and I'm wrong."

"I'm positive," Lucius said.

"We didn't know until our portraits were placed together well after your mother's death," Narcissa added. "I had no idea there could have been a counter curse, but if we'd known, I would have told your father. Please – please tell him that."

"I will," Scorpius promised. "I will. Thank you –"

Scorpius would have thanked them a hundred times, but suddenly the portraits went still and their subjects sagged against their frames, lifeless. He looked down to the wand in his hand, confused.

He shot James a questioning look, but found James' attention was elsewhere. He was staring past Scorpius at the door. His face had fallen into a surprised kind of sympathy, and Scorpius knew what he'd see before he even turned.

Draco stood in the threshold, lowering his wand with Dania at his side. She grasped his hand tightly and rubbed his shoulder gently, watching as he took Scorpius in from head to toe – muddy socks, dirty shirt, bruises and smudged glasses.

Scorpius wanted him to be angry. He wanted Draco to scream at him – tell him he was wrong to run off, wrong to lie and wrong to come up into the attic on his own. A rage would be easier to handle than the defeated expression he wore. The complete lack of shock told Scorpius immediately that Draco had known before now that he was ill, which was of some comfort. It was at least one thing he wouldn't have to explain.

 _That means Albus knows too,_ he assumed.

"Hi, dad," Scorpius muttered, breaking the silence. He held James' wand out, and James took it quickly as Scorpius passed, wearily shuffling towards his father. The weight of what he'd just learned became heavier and heavier with each step.

It had been a Malfoy. Of course it had been a Malfoy. It explained everything – why the curse was tearing through him faster than it had his mother, and why Ainsley seemed to have more time. It explained his powers, and why they hurt to use once he started getting ill. His mother's Greengrass blood was clashing with his Malfoy blood, and the energy it created was killing him.

Jin had asked him a few weeks ago if he'd thought his alternative powers were a symptom. At the time, Scorpius hadn't given the idea much thought, but now… well, he'd have to write Jin and tell him he was right.

Draco held out his arms and Scorpius stepped into them instantly, burying his face in his father's shoulder like a child. He held tight to Draco, his hands fisted in the back of his father's dark shirt, gripping him as if he'd disappear, and Draco held him gently, one hand cradling the back of his son's head. His grasp was careful and deliberate because he knew now to be gentle, lest he hurt his son. He'd been through this before, which hurt Scorpius more than if he'd been punched in the stomach.

 _If only we'd known_ , he thought. _We could have saved her._

With that thought alone, Scorpius broke down. He sobbed into his father's collar and felt Draco's arms tighten around him just a bit.

"It's okay, Scorpius," Draco said, smoothing down his son's damp hair. "You're home now. You've done so well."

"We could have saved her," Scorpius said, muffled by Draco's shoulder. He didn't care that James and Dania were there, watching him cry. His grief felt completely justified.

"I know. But we didn't know then," Draco said. "I searched everywhere for any information to help her but came up empty-handed at every turn. I had some of the best minds I could find looking into it."

"But we could have saved her."

"Scorpius, you of all people know we can't change the past," Draco said, drawing away and placing his hands on either side of Scorpius' face. Beneath his sad smile was a bit of pride as he looked Scorpius in the eye and said very clearly: "She would be so proud of you."

Scorpius bit his lip hard and nodded. Astoria may have been proud of him, but he would have rather had her here to tell him herself, and maybe someday knowing that would be enough, but not yet.

Draco drew him down into another hug, giving him time to gather himself and catch his breath.

"Both your parents gave you very difficult legacies," Draco whispered so only Scorpius could hear. "You've borne the burden beautifully, no matter what happens."

Scorpius stayed still and tried to calm himself, and when he did, he muttered to no one in particular –

"Can someone get Albus? Please?"

"I'll send for him," Draco said. "As soon as we get you to Saint Mungo's."

"But –"

"No 'but,'" Dania said. Scorpius drew back and looked at her. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Scorpius could imagine why. Dania had always been very respectful of Astoria's memory – it was one of the things Scorpius liked best about her – but now she had to be thinking her husband was wishing his late wife was there with them.

"You're going to Saint Mungo's for a checkup and treatment," Dania insisted. "Right now. Albus can meet you there."

Scorpius felt a hand on his back. James had joined them and was nodding in agreement with Dania.

"Let's go," James said. "We need to tell Ainsley we may have a cure."

Scorpius met Draco's eyes for a second and knew he was thinking the same thing. The counter curse might have been cut and dry for Ainsley if it was indeed the right remedy. In light of recent developments, however, it was increasingly uncertain for Scorpius. He looked away from his father quickly and nodded in agreement.

"Okay. Let's go."

* * *

To her credit, Dania made sure Scorpius' exam room wasn't the same one he'd been in following his seventh-year kidnapping. She settled him on the exam table and had him drinking a standard restoration potion before Draco could even excuse himself to go call for Albus. James left to go find Ainsley in the Viridian Potions Ward (but not before giving Scorpius a brief but comforting hug, which he accepted gratefully), leaving him with Dania who busied herself with readying potions and running a few diagnostic charms, and Orion who was resting comfortably on a nearby chair in his carrier.

"Your blood pressure is up," she told him as she pulled ingredients from the storage cabinets somewhat frantically. "And that bruise on your face looks bad. Are there others?"

"A few," Scorpius said. "There was a… thing in a library a couple nights ago. I got knocked around a bit."

She cast a wary look over her shoulder.

"I promise I'll tell you everything later," Scorpius said.

"Let me see," Dania responded. She lit a fire beneath a small cauldron with a quick _incendio_ before pocketing her wand. Scorpius unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the bruise on the front of his shoulder. For the first time in over a day he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room.

If he hadn't seen himself worse, he would have been disturbed. Not unlike when he was seventeen, he was thinner, banged up, and dirty-looking, though to a lesser degree. He hadn't shaved for a day or so and had an even growth of light stubble. His lower lip was dark from biting it, and his ribs were more visible than normal, which he blamed wholly on a lack of Albus' excellent cooking.

Dania stirred several ingredients in the cauldron in silence until Scorpius heard the faint hiss of the potion boiling.

"You should have come to me," she said finally as she approached Scorpius. She set the hot cauldron beside him on the table and tapped it with her wand. The steam slowed as it cooled.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius muttered, ashamed. "I know I've upset everyone."

Dania paused, standing in front of him. She wasn't short, and with Scorpius seated on the table they were eye-to-eye.

"I think your father knew for a while," Dania said. "But I don't think he was certain until the day before yesterday."

Scorpius looked away, tapping his toes together and fidgeting with the now loose edges of his unbuttoned shirt. Dania dipped a clean cloth into the cauldron, soaking it in the potion before beginning to apply it to each of Scorpius' contusions, starting with his face.

"He must be furious."

"He isn't," Dania said, avoiding Scorpius' eyes. "He understands completely why you did what you did. I think I was angrier than he was, but Draco has always trusted your judgment."

Somehow, that was worse than if he'd heard Draco had cursed his name while he came to terms.

"I can't imagine…" Dania trailed off, pressing the cloth to Scorpius' shoulder. "Your mum. Knowing she could have…"

Scorpius seized Dania's hand and held it.

"Please don't let dad's confusion make you think he'd change anything," Scorpius said. Dania looked taken aback, but held still. "This is the man who was in possession of a time-turner and didn't use it to speak with his late wife. I think… I think dad's been through so much that he's accepting that the past can't be changed, and I don't think he'd change anything with you and Orion if he had the opportunity to now. Just… if he's weird for a bit, give him space."

"Your father is always weird," Dania deadpanned. "He has more clothing than I've ever had in my life and spends more time on his hair than any woman I know."

Scorpius grinned at her. "For what it's worth, Dania, I'm very glad you came into our lives."

"I'm happy to hear that," she said, resuming her treatment. Scorpius winced as she pressed the cloth back into his shoulder, but immediately felt relief as the potion sank into his skin, warming the spot. When she pulled it away, the heat didn't fade. "Especially since you and I didn't meet under the best of circumstances. I was never quite certain if that bothered you."

"Of course not," Scorpius said. "We Malfoys are all about finding the light in the darkness these days. You were the good thing that came from that debacle."

Dania smiled to herself, stepping back.

"That should help for a bit," Dania said. "I've got to request your potions from the apothecary downstairs, which is where Ainsley should be. It might take a few hours to get them. I'll come back and pick them up but right now I need to wait on the blood replenishing potion and the dittany."

"Is it going to be the ones mum was on?"

"I'm afraid so," Dania said. "And I can't start you on the low dose. We've got to get that bleeding problem under control and it's going to take a while."

Scorpius sighed and hung his head. "It won't make working very easy." Dania's eyes widened and Scorpius shot her an inquisitive look.

"Scorpius, you don't have a job anymore," she told him slowly. "You narrowly escaped having charges pressed. I wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry is at the manor already seizing what you took from the archive."

Scorpius should have been upset. He should have been crushed at having his job taken, but instead he felt no remorse. He'd done what he had to and had given himself and Ainsley the best chance they could hope for, and he could never regret that.

"That's okay," he said tiredly. "I've got plenty of books to read. I'll learn to cook or something."

Dania patted his head with a warm smile. "That's the spirit."

Draco swept back into the room closing the door quickly behind himself.

"I Floo'd the magizoo," he told Scorpius. "I spoke with one of the directors. Albus was in a grindylow tank but they're telling him where you are. He'll be here shortly."

"Thank you," Scorpius said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

Orion began to fuss in his carrier and Dania scooped him up quickly. Scorpius saw his little hands and feet wiggling about as she soothed him, bouncing him up and down.

"Give him here, love," Draco said kindly. "I know you were up with him half the night."

Dania handed Orion over gently, and Draco seated himself on the exam table beside Scorpius, who didn't hesitate to lean into his father. He rested his head against Draco's shoulder, letting himself take in the stillness of the room – the calm before the arrival of Albus, the inevitable storm.

"I _was_ up half the night," Dania agreed. "So I'm going to go get us some tea from downstairs. And you –" she pointed at Scorpius. "You're going to eat one of their awful egg salad sandwiches whether you like it or not. It'll hold you over until you can have a nice, hot meal."

She smiled at him warmly and Scorpius nodded, happy to oblige.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

When Dania left, it was even quieter – just his father and his brother's breathing. Scorpius closed his eyes, feeling very heavy against Draco and nearly nodded off until Draco shifted Orion, freeing up one side to wrap around Scorpius' shoulders.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked softly. He was stroking Scorpius' hair again, the same way he had when Scorpius was a child and was upset. Scorpius didn't mind one bit.

"No," Scorpius said honestly. "But I hope I will be."

"I've had Horace Slughorn look over the potion information you sent," Draco said. "And Albus sent it off to his curse-breaker friend. They say it'll take about two months. It's far more complex than Polyjuice."

"Of course it is," Scorpius said. "But two months isn't that long when you think about it."

Draco's hand went still for a moment. "It's a long time for me to wonder if you're going to be okay."

"How long have you known?"

"I suspected when you left without saying goodbye," Draco confirmed. "But I didn't know for sure until the last time I talked to you with Albus."

"So Albus knows."

"I'm afraid so," Draco said. "He's not pleased with you."

Scorpius looked down at Orion laying peacefully in the crook of Draco's arm. How he wished he could go back to when his father could carry him and his mother would sing him to sleep. He'd give nearly anything.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this again," Scorpius whispered, reaching over to Orion. He let his baby brother wrap his tiny hand around his index finger.

Draco shook his head. "It's not your fault," he assured Scorpius. "But it is… it's very difficult to see you like this."

Scorpius stared into the mirror again and saw a portrait of the last three Malfoy men in varying degrees of distress – one dying, the other afraid of losing his son, and the third wishing he were at home in his crib.

"I do want to hear all about how you figured it out, though," Draco said. "You were finally able to put your bookworm skills to good use."

Scorpius sighed and closed his eyes. "In a bit," he said, and Draco understood. They fell silent, waiting for Albus.

* * *

James walked as quickly as he could to the Viridian Potions Ward. When he passed under the sign and through the main threshold, he was expecting to have to search multiple hallways to find where Ainsley's healer was. Instead, he saw her immediately upon entering, standing at the long, wide counter where patients picked up their potions or controlled ingredients. He stopped short, his trainers squeaking along the floor and took her in with a wave of fondness.

There were a few other people around, and a small family milled around her, waiting as well. James watched as she smiled down at a little girl who ran a ring around Ainsley's legs, ruffling the white edge of her navy blue dress. He was so immensely relieved to see her smiling and shaking her head, telling the apologetic mother that her daughter was just fine.

She was a little pale and a bit tired looking, but she was on her feet, grinning and whole. After realizing how ill Scorpius was (and how much the Dementor encounter had affected him), he was floored by gratitude to see the color in her cheeks and a smile on her face. He'd thought himself into some very dark places, and had convinced himself she'd be much worse when he saw her.

When the family walked away a moment later, she gave them a grin and a wave, giving the little girl an enthusiastic thumbs-up as they headed toward the door and past James. A second later, she did a double-take and James grinned as she recognized him.

"James!"

She ran towards him in a flash – her hair falling loose from its braid as she reached him and stood on her toes to throw her arms around his shoulders. James held her carefully, acutely aware of how much larger he was than his girlfriend, and buried his face in her honey-colored hair. She smelled like vanilla and lavender – so warm and inviting that he breathed her in. She smelled like home.

"Miss me?"

"Merlin, yes," she said, leaning back. James brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. With her glasses askew and a big smile on her face she looked more like herself than he'd seen in quite a while. He kissed her as gently as he could but found himself being pulled in as she wove her fingers into his hair and clung to him desperately. James laughed against her lips, seeing that she didn't care much for his efforts to be careful, and picked her up with both arms around her waist until she was looking down at him, her stomach against his chest.

"We found out who cursed your family," he told her. "You can try the potion recipe."

"Really?" she asked. Her brown eyes filled with tears.

"Really," James said.

"Who was it?"

James lowered her to the floor and she pressed herself against his side as they went back to the counter to get her things.

"I think that's a story best told by Scorpius," James said. "And I'm sure he only wants to tell it once."

Ainsley looked up at him with concern, but it gave way to another smile when he met her eyes. She buried her face against his shoulder while they waited for her medicine, and James hoped that in his efforts to be a better brother and friend, he might become a better partner too.

* * *

Tap. Tap. Tap. _A woman's heels_ , Scorpius thought.

Squeak. Squeak. _A healer in trainers_.

Click. Click. Click. Click. _A man in dress shoes_.

Scorpius listened to the footfalls from the hallway with his eyes closed, listening to Orion's baby sounds as he and Draco waited. When he heard the sound of someone running in trainers with a slightly uneven gait, however, he sat upright quickly and stared at the door.

Albus walked in, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed from exertion. The shoulders of his green shirt were soaked through and his hair was wet, but his eyes were wide and bright and went wider as he stared at Scorpius, his eyes scanning Scorpius' face and body, unblinking.

"I'll just give you two a moment," mumbled Draco, supremely uncomfortable.

Draco slid down from the table, careful of Orion. He slipped past Albus – his presence seemingly unnoticed. He clearly didn't want to witness whatever Albus had to say to his son, and as he left he mouthed two words at Scorpius before he slipped from the room and closed the door behind himself.

_Good luck._

Somehow, Scorpius didn't feel encouraged as he looked back to Albus, who was still gawking at him.

"Hi, Al," Scorpius said lamely, staring back at him. He'd wanted little more than to see Albus for months and now here he was and Scorpius was frozen in place.

"I'm terribly cross with you," Albus said. He didn't need to point it out, as his frown and the worry lines across his forehead gave away his distress.

"I know." Scorpius nodded furiously at him. "But can you pause being cross with me for a little bit and get back to it later? Only I… I've missed you quite a bit and –"

Before Scorpius could finish, Albus crossed the small room to stand in front of him. He took Scorpius' face in both his hands and kissed him firmly. Scorpius was grateful he wasn't trying to be careful and melted into him, forgetting everything around them and sliding his arms around Albus' middle, pulling him closer until they were as close as they could be.

After a long minute in which Albus managed to get one hand under Scorpius' open shirt, Albus pulled back and looked at Scorpius. He brushed the bruise along Scorpius' cheek with his fingertips and pushed his hair back, looking everywhere but Scorpius' eyes until finally, _finally_ Scorpius regained some sense of composure.

"Albus?"

Albus looked at him, his lower lip shaking and his eyes watery. Scorpius swallowed hard, looking into his green eyes until he could locate the small ring of brown around the center.

Scorpius whispered. "I'm really sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" Albus asked shakily. One hand rested on the back of Scorpius' neck and the other roamed across his back.

"What would you have done if I had?" Scorpius asked. Albus didn't answer and looked away. He knew as well as Scorpius did that he would have gone into a protective frenzy. "Precisely."

"Did you find what you needed?" Albus asked. "Did you find the last bit for the cure?"

"Yeah. About an hour ago, " Scorpius said. "It's a long story, but it was Brutus Malfoy."

Albus drew back, confused and concerned. "Brutus Malfoy?"

Scorpius nodded sadly, trying to tug Albus closer again to no avail. "He ran a newspaper in the mid- to late-1600s and he hated wizards who associated with muggles. He cursed Abel Gringras for letting his pureblood niece marry a squib."

"Damn," Albus swore.

"It gets better," said Scorpius with dark sarcasm. "The curse is designed to crop up in descendants who don't uphold the pureblood ideals – you know, hating muggles, keeping a wizarding hierarchy, and breeding more purebloods."

Albus grimaced. "You're being victimized for being a good person?"

Scorpius nodded pulling at Albus' shirt until he stepped close enough for Scorpius to wrap his arms around him again.

"It explains why Ainsley and I have it and Daphne doesn't. It explains why mum had it."

"Cursed for not being a bigot and –" Albus looked down at him, even more upset. "For not breeding more purebloods. Is it worse because you're with me?"

Scorpius shook his head so fast that the room spun. "No, no," he said quickly. "It's worse because I'm a Malfoy _and_ a Greengrass."

"Are you sure?"

Albus was looking for ways to blame himself or their relationship, because then maybe he could convince himself there was something more he could do. Scorpius couldn't abide Albus carrying any blame. He maneuvered both of Albus' hands into his own and held them tight.

"Yes," Scorpius said. "This isn't because of us."

Albus studied their hands for a few seconds before looking Scorpius over again. He was less frantic now and more concerned as he pushed the collar of Scorpius' shirt back to examine the fading bruise on his shoulder.

"What happened?"

"That's a long story too," Scorpius said. Albus gave him a withering look. "One I’m happy to tell!" Scorpius amended quickly. "Only I'm very hungry and very tired, and I'm certain everyone wants to know, so can it wait just a little longer?"

Albus grumbled at him. "I've been waiting for an explanation for weeks now. I suppose a few hours won't hurt."

"Albus…"

"You weren't there when I came home," he said, clearly wounded. "And then I find out you and James have run off on some kind of mission with no warning at all, and you kept saying you'd be home soon, but you weren't."

Scorpius looked down, ashamed.

"And then I find out you've been ill and you didn't tell me," Albus said. His voice wavered. "I wanted to help. I wanted you _home_ where I could look after you."

"I managed to look after myself just fine," Scorpius defended. "You and dad seem to think I'm incapable of being on my own."

"It's not that," Albus sighed. He stepped away and Scorpius reached after him uselessly. "You're special, Scorpius. You know that. You're the kind of person that deserves to be taken care of, even if you don't need it."

"I'm not special," Scorpius said, indignant. "I'm just me."

"And that makes you special." Albus folded his arms across his chest, and Scorpius was forced to appreciate that Albus looked stronger now than he had in a while. Scorpius suspected he'd been more active at work since his leg had been partially healed, and it showed across his shoulders and chest. He was stronger than when he'd been playing Quidditch at Hogwarts and carried himself with far more confidence, and the effect wasn't lost on Scorpius.

"I took care of myself," Scorpius said eventually. "And James isn't useless. He was actually very helpful, you know, and we talked. He apologized for everything – it was very nice, and he's been very kind when he actually knows what to do. _And_ he thought my Patronus was pretty badass, so –"

"What the hell were you doing conjuring a Patronus?" Albus asked.

"Oh. Well, I was just practicing in a spare moment," Scorpius deflected.

Albus wasn't buying it. He quirked one dark eyebrow at him and Scorpius sighed.

"Might've run into a Dementor or two," Scorpius mumbled.

"You _what_?"

"It's a part of that long story I was going to tell you," Scorpius said quickly. "But everything's fine, really."

"You ran into a Dementor – sorry, _Dementors_ ," Albus amended, drawing out the 's'. "You took off around the world, apparently got into a bar fight," he said, gesturing to the bruise on Scorpius' face, "all while battling a curse that could make you bleed out from a _shaving_ accident."

"Well, maybe not a shaving accident," Scorpius corrected. "Not yet. A good stabbing or splinching would certainly do me in, though."

"You're not making this better," Albus said through gritted teeth. "And you went out there with _James_ of all people who wouldn't mind one bit if some horrible accident befell you. 'Whoops,'" Albus imitated. "'Looks like the Malfoy boy got himself lost or killed, guess you'll have to call off the wedding, Al.'"

"James saved my life," Scorpius said. "He actually handled all of the travel, kept everything organized, and when we ran into those Dementors he didn't even hesitate. If he hadn't been there I wouldn't have had time to think. All those voices…" Scorpius shuddered.

"I can't imagine what horrors a Dementor could possibly find to bring up for my brother," Albus said. "That _one_ time a girl rejected him? Or when he failed a test? How about the time he lost a Quidditch match?"

"I didn't ask him," Scorpius said. "It's terribly personal, but they did affect him. I saw it."

"Sure," Albus said, disbelieving.

"I didn't want to talk about it with him since I still had my mum's voice echoing in my head," Scorpius snapped. "It was only a couple days ago. I can still hear her."

Scorpius fell silent. Nothing he said now would make Albus understand. Not when he was like this. He'd hurt Albus and that wasn't something he'd done for a very long time. A part of him wanted to tell Albus that this was probably close to how he'd felt when Albus had decided the world revolved around him and his problems with his dad in their early Hogwarts years, but decided that would probably make it worse.

After a minute of stony silence, Albus looked back up at him. His mouth was curved into a frown and there was a crippling sadness in his eyes that hurt Scorpius worse than all his aches and pains combined, and he wished they were home where he could kiss and cuddle that frown away – if Albus would let him, of course.

"Your glasses are filthy," Albus said, stepping closer.

"I tried to clean them on my shirt, but I guess they're too dirty," Scorpius explained, taking them off and looking at the lenses.

"Why didn't you spell them clean?"

"My wand got broken," Scorpius said mournfully. "Snapped. James accidentally stepped on it in our scuffle with the Dementors."

Albus cringed. "Another one?"

Scorpius nodded woefully.

Albus took Scorpius' glasses and drew his wand, carefully spelling them clean. He held them up to the light to examine them before deeming them acceptable and Scorpius held out his hand for them. A somewhat-blurry Albus smirked at him.

"Nope," Albus said. He stepped closer to Scorpius and wound his arms back around Scorpius' waist. "I might be cross with you, but I did still miss you," Albus said, and Scorpius leaned into him, relieved, and closed his eyes as Albus kissed his forehead, his temple, and the tip of his nose before dipping down to kiss him again. This time he was more careful, more deliberately gentle, and Scorpius looped his thumbs through Albus' belt loops to hold him in place.

"Sorry," Albus muttered a minute later when he pulled away. He touched Scorpius' lower lip with his thumb, and Scorpius kept his eyes closed, letting himself be shamelessly happy and relieved for the moment. "I must have hurt you earlier. I wasn't thinking."

"It doesn't matter," Scorpius assured him. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Albus said. "It's my job to take care of you."

"It's my job to take care of you too." Scorpius rested his head against Albus' damp chest. "I haven't been doing a very good job of it, though."

"I haven't either," Albus said, rubbing Scorpius' back in slow, calming circles. "So let's do better. Let me do my job from here until you're better, okay?"

"Okay," Scorpius muttered into his shirt. "I've got so much to tell you. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Albus said, soothing.

"But you're still cross with me?"

"A bit."

Scorpius nodded and closed his eyes, sagging into Albus' chest, and when Dania came back in with the rest of his family, ready to administer more potions and salves, Scorpius refused to let go.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping this makes a little more sense now.
> 
> Thank you again [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> [You know where to find me. ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	17. Borrowed

Albus knew any amount of time alone with Scorpius would feel too short, but when Draco and Dania returned to the room along with three additional healers in lime green robes, he truly felt cheated. Dania set a small tray of potions and salves on the nearby table and started opening them up as the other healers approached. Albus watched as they introduced themselves to Scorpius, each shaking his hand in turn and explaining their specialty. One was from the Magical Bugs and Diseases ward, and she would be ensuring Scorpius hadn't caught anything while traveling. The second was a young wizard from Potions and Plant Poisoning, and would be supervising the brewing and amounts of medicinal potions that Scorpius would be taking.

The third – an old woman from the Spell Damage ward – stood back with Dania, eyeing Scorpius with concern. She looked as though she had been tall once, but her back had long since hunched over. Albus suspected it gave her excellent opportunities at Halloween to dress as a hag.

"He looks worse than the girl," the witch said. That much was obvious, Albus thought, but he'd attributed it mostly to whatever had happened to him while he was traveling and the bruise across his cheek. The last few days had happened so fast, Albus had barely had time to process that Scorpius _did_ look significantly worse than he should have – far worse than Ainsley.

Albus moved closer to Scorpius' side as Dania answered.

"It's complicated," Dania told her.

"How so?"

"He's a part of the cursed bloodline and the bloodline of the person who cast the curse," Dania explained. She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was no use – the room was both quiet and small. Albus wished they'd leave if the woman was going to keep looking at Scorpius like that – with a sympathy that bordered on pity. Only he was allowed to look at Scorpius like that. He could tell Scorpius was uneasy too. His hand tightened around the back of Albus' shirt and he was blinking less, staring at the witch as the potions expert tried to assure him they'd have that bruise cleared up in two days at most. Albus wished instantly that they were at home where he could make Scorpius some soup and set him down by the fireplace with a book where he belonged.

After a few moments of forced reassuring chatter from the other two healers, the old woman spoke to Scorpius for the first time.

"My name is Gladys Jones," said the haggard healer. She stepped forward and Albus noticed she had a heavy limp beneath her ample flowing robes. "I've been taking care of your cousin. I'm going to have to look you over now, if that's okay," she said.

Scorpius looked up at Dania, who nodded solemnly. He sat up straighter and nodded to the witch, who beckoned him to stand up. Though he knew it was unnecessary, Albus held Scorpius steady as he slid down from the table and forced himself to stand up straight. Scorpius held tight to Albus' waist until the witch reached up to examine the bruise on his face.

"You're going to have to let go of your boyfriend," Gladys instructed. Scorpius gave Albus a mournful look as he bent over a bit so the witch could get a better look at his face and released him. Albus reluctantly moved over to the door and shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood by Draco who looked equally uncomfortable.

"Gladys is a fine healer," Draco whispered. "She's taken excellent care of Ainsley."

"Doesn't mean that I have to like that we're here," Albus grumbled. He watched like an irritable hawk as Gladys used a few spells to check Scorpius' heart and lungs, silent except for a few tutting noises that Albus didn't expect were good. She cast complicated diagnostic spells that Albus couldn't begin to pronounce, and he stopped listening when it made his chest hurt too badly to pay attention.

"At least he'll have the best medical care," Draco said. "The healers here… they're why Astoria lasted as long as she did."

While Gladys looked over the bruise on Scorpius' shoulder ("fell into a bookcase," Scorpius explained, "it's a long story"), Albus glanced at Draco to find him looking more disheveled than Albus had seen in a long time. His hair was askew, and his eyes were red. Even his nose looked a bit raw. Albus glanced at Dania who was watching with rapt attention while Gladys examined Scorpius, and noticed that her healer's robes were a bit rumpled on one side. He didn't need more of an explanation.

At some point they must have met with Ainsley and James, because when the pair entered Ainsley was carrying Orion in his carrier. She, unlike her cousin, looked mostly normal – maybe a bit tired – and was smiling as she walked in.

"Hey," she greeted Scorpius. They exchanged meaningful smiles, but held off on the embrace as Gladys checked Scorpius' throat, pressing her fingers around like she was looking for something. Scorpius cringed and Albus fought the urge to reach for his wand, telling himself to _calm down_ because this wasn't his field and he needed to let the experts do their jobs.

"Albus?" James said. Albus looked up at his brother – tousled and damp but still smiling with a confidence that Albus thought of as very James-like – and bit down his irritation at Scorpius' accomplice.

"Hi, James," Albus grumbled. James' smile faltered and he slipped past Ainsley to stand by Albus. The room was now properly overcrowded as Gladys gave Scorpius permission to button his shirt back up, which he did quickly. She, the other two healers and Dania came together and began discussing potions and treatments in quiet voices. The young wizard suggested Scorpius stay in the hospital for a few days to which Dania laughed loudly.

"Absolutely not," she said. "He'll be well cared for at home, I assure you."

Albus was glad he wasn't going to have to argue on that point.

"It's good to see you, Al," James said. Albus just gave him a contentious look and said nothing. James' smile faded completely. "I know you're probably angry with me and you should be," James said.  "I was only trying to help."

"You could have helped by not letting him get banged up like that," Albus hissed.

"That was entirely not my fault," James said. "I did my best."

Albus just folded his arms, watching carefully as Scorpius slid back onto the exam table and folded his hands neatly in his lap, waiting, tapping his feet together nervously.

Draco leaned over to Albus and spoke quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Albus said honestly. "I've never been angry with him before. Not like this."

Regardless, Albus moved back over to where Scorpius sat and stood at his side. Scorpius gratefully wrapped his arm around Albus' waist again and held onto him. He kissed the top of Scorpius' head, knowing he'd misspoken to Draco. As he heard phrases from the healers like "borrowed time," "might get lucky," and "we'll have to be careful," Albus knew that whatever he was feeling was confusing, but it wasn't anger. It was a far more potent combination of mounting fear, grief, and longing, and it felt like it was going to kill him.

* * *

Ainsley was pleased as a pixie to find herself squeezed between James and Scorpius on the Potters' couch. When Harry and Ginny had insisted they all come back to their home for dinner, Scorpius hadn't protested. In fact, he hadn't said much of anything. Draco had quietly posited that it was because he didn't want to aggravate Albus, but Ainsley knew better – he just didn't care where they were at as long as he was with his family.

James and Scorpius were indulging in their third bowls of beef stew under Harry's watchful eye. Mr. Potter took feeding people in his home very seriously, and the minute Scorpius and James had said they were starving, he'd flown into action. It had been a bit inspiring to watch as he and Ginny alternated charming kitchen instruments to cook, gathering ingredients, and stopping to hug and kiss their son and future son-in-law.

Now, James was telling everyone about the path they'd taken that led straight back to the Malfoy manor. Across the room, Ginny watched with rapt attention, looking between James and Scorpius, who had remained near silent as he ate. He filled in only the necessary gaps when James came up short or forgot something, but otherwise kept quiet. He didn't seem to have the energy to contribute, and Ainsley wished she could help somehow. He'd done so much for her and she hadn't been given the opportunity to repay him.

On Scorpius' other side sat Albus, sandwiched between his fiancé and the arm of the sofa. He hadn't made a sound since they'd sat down, and barely moved, keeping his arms decisively crossed. He looked uncomfortable, but Ainsley wasn't sure if it was the small space he'd been allocated or the fact that he simply didn't want to be there and she was too afraid to ask if he wanted her to move to free up some space. After what she'd seen in the hospital after she and James had joined them – Scorpius' health being meticulously evaluated by several healers, Albus' mood darkening with each minute and their mutual desperation to stay at each other's side despite Albus' unhappiness and Scorpius' resignation to the circumstances – she knew better than to rock the boat. Instead, she just listened to James talk in silent gratitude.

When James got to the part about the French library, everyone listened intently.

"And then these Dementors came out of nowhere," James said, looking at Scorpius for backup. Scorpius nodded.

" _Dementors_?" Draco asked, horrified. He looked to Harry. "Doesn't that break some sort of law?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, thinking. It exposed his scar and Ainsley had to try not to look at it.

"I'm not sure. It might break an international statute," Harry said. "I'll talk with Hermione in the morning, but it's France and their laws are different. I'm expecting her in my office bright and early to scold me anyway."

Ginny scoffed. "For what now?"

"Incomplete report," Harry shrugged. "You and I had dinner plans. I didn't have time to finish it."

Ginny smiled, but it was short-lived. She looked back at James.

"Let's get back to the part where you nearly had your soul sucked out because you were breaking and entering in a foreign country," she said.

James winced. "Well, when you put it that way it sounds pretty bad," he said. "But Scorpius' Patronus is pretty fantastic. Tell them," James said, slapping Scorpius on the knee excitedly.

Scorpius set his spoon down in his bowl and looked at his father. "It's a dragon."

Ainsley saw Draco's lips twitch in a smile. Scorpius looked like he was trying not to smile himself and Ainsley watched as an unspoken understanding passed between them.

"It's a _huge_ dragon," James amended.

Albus, on the other hand, wasn't impressed.

"You shouldn't have needed to find out what your Patronus is," Albus grumbled. Everyone politely chose to ignore him.

"So anyway – that's when I found out Scorpius was ill, because we got pretty banged up and I accidentally broke his wand," James rambled. "But he'd grabbed the girl's journal and a few other things, and the next day he went through it and found a date for the incident, so we went looking for newspapers," he rambled. Ainsley saw that he kept looking at Harry. James had always looked up to his father in everything, and Ainsley knew he was looking for Harry's thoughts on his only real adventure that didn't involve work. The excitement in his eyes was terribly endearing.

As he explained how they found _Warlock at War_ , Ainsley sank back into the cushions. Two of her favorite people had gone to great lengths to find a cure for her and Scorpius, and this entire extensive family had rallied with caring and help to make it work. She was stunned with gratitude and optimism, even though Scorpius kept reminding them that this was untested and uncertain.

"Have we got the Chimaera egg?" James asked once everyone was caught up.

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yes, because Albus and Charlie decided it was a good plan to go into a cage with two bloodthirsty beasts."

Scorpius gasped and looked at Albus.

"You went into a _cage_ with them?"

Albus shrugged, maintaining his posture. "You needed an egg. That was the only place to get one. Make sure you thank Charlie when you see him, though. He's the one who got a new scar."

Scorpius and James exchanged surprised looks before Scorpius hung his head, ashamed.

"This is all too much," he said softly.

"Charlie isn't mad," Harry said. "He wanted to help. I don't think he'd fought a Chimaera before. Probably gives him another block on Beast Battling Bingo or something. You know how those dragon trainers are."

"Mental," Ginny supplied.

"Still, he got hurt, Albus _could_ have gotten himself eaten, and I've upset each and every person in this room."

"Not Orion," Dania chimed in. Orion was tugging at her hair and chewing on it. She explained, unfazed. "Orion's not mad at you, and I'm sure in fifteen years he'll thank you for having done this so he'll still have his older brother and sister to look after him."

Ainsley nearly cried at the word 'sister.'

That seemed to calm Scorpius, and he relaxed as Ginny took his empty bowl away, ruffling Albus' hair affectionately as she passed (Ainsley thought she saw his expression soften, but it was difficult to be sure with Albus). _Thank Merlin for Dania_ , Ainsley thought for the millionth time. _She always knows what to say or do._

The sun had long since set and Ainsley was starting to get tired, but didn't want to admit it and break everyone up. Instead, she curled into James' side, grinning when he obliged and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as the others began chattering about the next steps.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too," he whispered back, wrapping both arms around her. "I'm so glad we found it."

"I know. To think I was ready to give up."

"At least now both you and Scorpius have the best possible chance," James assured her.

"What if it doesn't work?"

James' smile faded and he stroked back her hair, tightening his arm around her as she rested her chin against his chest, looking up at him.

"If it doesn't work then we'll just have to make-do with what we're given," James said.

For now, it was going to have to be good enough, Ainsley knew. She cuddled into James' side and let herself relax into him, knowing that at the very least all options had been explored. She only hoped that was enough for Scorpius.

* * *

It was late when Draco and Harry began reviewing the potion recipe near where Albus and Scorpius sat in silence – Albus' stony and deliberate and Scorpius' dazed and tired.

"I'll have Horace come to the manor straight away in the morning," Harry said. "Obviously we can't do it here with the illegal ingredients."

"Of course not," Draco said as if he'd never considered the idea. "I've got a room set up for it already so the potion won't be disturbed while it brews."

"Says the Angel's Trumpet leaves have to be added only under a full moon, and the bat spleen has to be entirely pure."

"That's already taken care of," Draco assured him. "Took care of as many of the ingredients myself as I could. Some of them were in Astoria's garden and there are plenty of bats in the attic. I ordered everything else."

Ginny scoffed, passing by with a fresh round of drinks. Scorpius took the hot Butterbeer, grateful to have something so comforting _and_ to have something to occupy his hands. He took a long drink and when he opened his eyes, he had to wait for the steam to clear off his glasses.

"I can't imagine you catching and gutting a bat, Draco," Ginny said as she set a drink in front of him.

"You'd be surprised what I can do when I have to," Draco grumbled. 

Scorpius listened as they went down the list, gripping his drink and resting his head against his free palm. His temples were throbbing and his eyes burned with exhaustion. He was wearing an old pair of joggers and a t-shirt that belonged to Harry and longed to be in his own pajamas and in his own bed.

"The last bit is you," Harry said as they got to the bottom of the list.

"I know. I've got to bleed into a vial. I'm sure Slughorn will love this. The mere mention of blood magic makes him queasy."

"I'm sorry you have to do it," Scorpius muttered, just loud enough that Draco could hear. Albus perked up when Scorpius spoke but remained silent at his side.

"It's nothing," Draco said. "The potion calls for only a bit, so making it for two people isn't a problem at all. Even if it was, you know I'd do it anyway."

"I know, but still," Scorpius said, shifting uncomfortably. Ainsley didn't even budge when he moved and he suspected she'd fallen asleep half on James' lap. "Blood magic is dark and taboo. It's something our family has tried to leave behind."

Draco straightened and looked at Scorpius.

" _This_ is not dark," Draco said. " _This_ is undoing something awful that one of our ancestors did that has somehow managed to come back on our family in some circular, ironic twist of fate."

"It's not fair," Scorpius muttered again, feeling even more like a child.

Harry looked at him with sympathy. "Life rarely is, Scorpius," he said. "I thought by now you'd have accepted that."

"Bit hard to accept that a scroll in a library could have saved your mother."

Harry leaned forward in his seat, casting a glance back at Draco as though asking for permission. Draco nodded solemnly, and Harry turned back to them.

"You of all people know that we can't change the past," Harry said. "What happened to your mother was truly awful, and from what you've told me about her over the years, I know she must have been a wonderful woman and she was a gift to you and your father. But we can't change what happened to her. It's unfortunate that you had to lose her, but you never know if her surviving would have had catastrophic consequences."

"My mum could only have made the world a better place," Scorpius assured him.

"And what if she'd helped someone who later did awful things?" Harry asked. "Don't you think Albus Dumbledore thought about using a time turner to go back and kill Voldemort's mother or father at least once? Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time," Harry reminded them. "And sometimes we don't know things when we needed to know them. Believe me, I wished for years that I could have gone back to save my mum and dad.  I'd have given anything to stop Voldemort, but then I was given that chance and you saw what happened."

Scorpius tried very hard not to think about that night in Godric's Hollow, but when he did he thought it was a cruel trick of fate that Harry and Albus' eyes were the same shade of green as the light he'd seen flashing from the windows of the Potters' house.

"If things hadn't worked out this way, Ainsley would have never come to live with you. Your aunt might have taken you, but she might not have, and without that you wouldn't have been at Saint Mungo's when you were and Orion wouldn't be here."

Scorpius looked across the room where Dania held the sleeping baby while she talked to Ginny.

"In no universe is your mum's death anything but horrible," Harry continued. "But things have a way of working out the way they're supposed to."

He tried to take Harry's advice to heart, but it was difficult to process after the last few weeks. Even Draco seemed to agree with Harry, though he looked reluctant to do so.

"Right," Scorpius muttered. "I know. It's just…"

"A lot to process?" Draco supplied.

Scorpius nodded sadly. He wanted to reach out and take Albus' hand – it was a small comfort but a significant one – but they were both carefully tucked in at his sides.

Draco looked across the room at Dania and Orion just as Dania laughed at something Ginny said. He smiled at them, his gaze lingering for a moment as though he couldn't look away.

"I spent a lot of time wishing I was someone other than Draco Malfoy," Draco said. "Knowing something could have saved Astoria will haunt me to my grave. That said, all we can do is try to be happy with what we've been given in this life. It took me a long time to realize that wishing doesn't create happiness."

Scorpius knew his father was right, but didn't feel it in his heart yet. He hoped he would in time.

"We don't even know if it works yet," Albus reminded them bitterly, wholly focused on picking at a stray thread on the arm of the couch.

Harry regarded his son with sympathetic eyes. "No, but we can hope."

Albus scoffed at the idea of Harry's 'hope.' It looked like his attitude had earned him a lecture as Harry leaned forward towards him, staring intently at his son. Fortunately for Albus, Dania chose that moment to stand up and approach them.

"It's getting late," she said, resting her hand on Draco's shoulder. He took it promptly and kissed her middle knuckle. "I'm going to take Orion and Ainsley home."

Ainsley was still fast asleep next to Scorpius, and James seemed reluctant to move her.

"I think we could all do with some sleep," Draco said, getting to his feet. He moved his chair back to the edge of the room where he'd found it before looking down at Scorpius.

Scorpius knew he needed sleep too, but his limbs felt heavy and he was reluctant to move.

"Do you want to come back to the manor?" Draco asked. "We can take care of you there while you rest up."

Beside him, Albus mumbled something akin to 'perfectly capable of taking care of my fiancé, thanks.' Draco either didn't hear him or was kind enough to ignore the comment.

"Er… no, I think I want to go home," Scorpius said awkwardly. "But I'll come by tomorrow as early as I can. I should be there when Slughorn –"

"You'll do no such thing," Draco said. "You've done brilliantly, but you've done enough. Let us take it from here."

He smiled kindly down at his son and placed a hand against Scorpius' cheek. If any good had come of the day, it was that Scorpius had been hugged, kissed and touched more by this extensive family than he ever had been. It was a birthday and a few Christmas combined and he was grateful for their compassion.

"Then I'll probably just sleep until supper and then we'll come over."

"As long as you get some rest," Draco said. He bent down and kissed the top of Scorpius' head. "Sleep is important when you're…" he trailed off and shook his head uncomfortably. It pained Scorpius to know he was dredging up all this painful knowledge for Draco. With Ainsley it was still easy to ignore – it was all potions and naps, mostly – but the curse's effects were quite literally written on Scorpius' face now and were impossible to overlook.

"Well," Draco continued, forcing a smile. "Just get some sleep, son."

Scorpius nodded and watched as a groggy Ainsley disentangled herself from James, who was reluctant to let her go, but she insisted he sleep in his own bed and get some rest before joining her in the morning.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

"But I could come with you. Or you could stay here," James whispered so Draco couldn't hear, as if he wasn't aware when James stayed at the manor or when Ainsley didn't come home.

"I'll still be here tomorrow, Jamie," Ainsley said. She kissed him and patted his cheek before standing up. "Get some sleep where I can't kick you and keep you up."

James folded his arms and pouted childishly at her until the Malfoys disappeared into the fireplace.

Scorpius looked at Albus, who had yet to move. Even when he was angry he was handsome, but Scorpius preferred him smiling.

"Are you ready to go home?" Scorpius asked. He placed his hand on Albus' knee like he had a million times before, but Albus stared at it for a long second before nodding.

"Sure," he shrugged before getting to his feet. He relied heavily on the sofa for balance until he was stable, and then said a hasty, stiff goodbye to his parents and brother.

"Thank you for dinner," Scorpius said, shoving his hands in the pockets of the borrowed joggers. "And for listening. And for everything else."

"Thank _you_ for coming back safely with James," Ginny said.

"You scared us quite a bit," Harry added. Scorpius shuffled his feet sheepishly and apologized for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The Potter parents exchanged hugs and kisses with them, and as soon as Ginny released Albus he went to the fireplace, threw some Floo powder into the flames, and stepped in.

When his silhouette had faded, Scorpius stared after him, desolate.

"Give him some time," Ginny said. "It's Albus, and you know how he is when he's…"

She trailed off, struggling to find the word.

"He's Albus," Harry supplied. "He's just being Albus."

"I know," Scorpius grumbled. "Doesn't mean I like seeing him like this."

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder himself and held it for a moment before heading home.

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place was very dark and very cold when Scorpius staggered out of the fireplace. Albus stood in the sitting room, looking around at the surfaces. Home had felt foreign to him when he'd arrived from Brazil, and he'd done everything he could to avoid spending time here alone when he'd returned.

Albus watched Scorpius brush the soot from his clothes and reach for his wand to banish it away, only to find that it wasn't there. Scorpius sighed and closed his eyes in aggravation before reaching down to scratch Zar's ears. The dog had bounded in from the other room, tongue lolling and tail wagging until he was pressed against Scorpius' legs.

"We can go to Ollivander's tomorrow," Albus said. "Though I'm not sure you need a wand, do you?"

Scorpius straightened, wrung his hands and tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves. It was something he'd always done, even as a child, and Albus had always found his fidgeting to be endearing, but when he'd had to ask Ginny for something long-sleeved instead of a normal t-shirt, it had bothered Albus for reasons he couldn't name. Maybe it was because he knew Scorpius was trying to cover up some scars, or maybe it was because he didn't know what other things he might be trying to keep from view.

"Actually, I do," Scorpius said, as Zar nudged his legs. "I can't use wandless magic. It hurts and it gives me nosebleeds and headaches."

Albus cringed as Zar moved over to him and licked at his hand. Albus was too preoccupied to respond. "Okay. So Ollivander's first thing tomorrow," he said. "Can't have you going around without a wand."

"I'm not sure it matters," Scorpius said. He shoved his hands in his pockets like he always did when he knew he was getting too antsy. "Won't need it much as I don't have a job anymore."

"I don't think James does either," Albus said. "Gringotts sent three letters to my parents' house, then sent someone there looking for him. Uncle Bill can't do anything because my family is always accused of nepotism anyway."

"I suppose I owe James an apology too, then," Scorpius said. Zar huffed at the lack of attention and threw himself down onto the carpet in front of Scorpius, rolling onto his back.

"You didn't make him go with you. He did what he wanted."

Scorpius nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking down at his bare feet and Zar's wagging tail.

Albus wasn't sure what he felt when he looked at him. Mixed in with all the love he had for his fiancé was uncertainty, pain and frustration that he couldn't put into words, and it was even more overwhelming now that they were alone. He figured he should keep quiet until he could name his emotions, lest he say something he'd regret.

"It's getting pretty late. Why don't you go take a shower before bed?" Albus said. "A hot shower always makes you feel better, yeah?"

Scorpius' mouth twitched into what could have been a smile, but then he looked at Albus and it faltered.

"Yeah, good plan."

Scorpius headed upstairs, his every movement slowed by exhaustion. Albus wished he could do something – _anything_ to make it easier, but he sensed Scorpius didn't want him around much and so he stayed downstairs until he could hear the water running before going to the spare bathroom to rinse off himself. He still smelled like grindylow water.

* * *

About a half hour later, Albus slipped into their bedroom still drying his hair with a towel. He expected to find Scorpius curled up into a ball, already asleep, and was surprised to find the bed empty and pristinely made from when Lily had visited. He frowned, suddenly worried that Scorpius had somehow hurt himself, passed out in the shower or worse – maybe he just decided Albus too _was_ surly and went to the manor because Draco _could_ take care of him better.

Albus checked the massive bathroom upstairs and found the clawfoot bathtub empty and the shower off. He checked the library, and the spare bedroom with the window seat Scorpius loved, but found them empty as well.

He made his way downstairs, more worried by the second, and checked the kitchen before stepping into the sitting room where the only light came in from the hallway lanterns.

It was Zar's tail that gave them away. Albus looked over the back of the couch and found Scorpius curled up under a blanket with their dog crammed into the space between his legs and the back of the couch. Zar looked happy as could be when Albus showed up, and raised his paw in greeting, his tail thumping against the arm. Albus rubbed behind his ears to calm him, and Zar lay his head back down on Scorpius' hip.

Scorpius looked almost peaceful with his head on a throw pillow knitted by Grandma Molly. Albus sat down on the nearby coffee table and looked at him. The bruise on his cheek wasn't quite as stark in the near darkness and his hair was smooth after having been washed. He was clean shaven again, and Albus reached out to run a finger across the sharp line of his jaw. He could almost pretend that nothing was wrong – that they hadn't been apart and there was no curse threatening to tear Scorpius apart and take him away.

But it wasn't that simple. Albus sighed and withdrew his hand. "Scorpius?"

He groaned and shifted on the couch, turning his face into the pillow.

"Scorp, wake up," Albus said, shaking his shoulder.

A few seconds later, Scorpius lifted his head, blinking in the darkness.

"Al?"

"Why are you asleep on the couch?"

Scorpius fell back onto the pillow, curling up more under his blanket.

"You're supposed to sleep on the couch when your partner is mad at you," Scorpius said. "Isn't that rule number one of marriage? I'm practicing. Assuming you still want to get married, that is."

Albus blanched at the outlandish notion that he wanted anything but to get married.

"Why would you say that?" Albus asked softly. "Of course I do."

Scorpius didn't respond and stayed very still. Albus knew he hadn’t fallen asleep again, though, because his face still looked tense, and something in his chest ached at the idea Scorpius thought he was having doubts.

Albus brushed Scorpius' hair back – he was clearly due for a haircut – and lay a hand across his cheek. He felt very warm, but Dania had warned them that a small fever was a possible side effect of taking so many potions at once. Scorpius exhaled slowly at Albus' touch, relaxing.

"Come to bed," Albus said.

"I already took a dreamless sleep potion," he said groggily. "Besides, you're still cross with me," Scorpius muttered. "You're never cross with me. I don't know what to do."

"I promise, I will _never_ be cross enough with you that I'd want you to sleep on the couch," Albus assured him. "Besides, you're all bruised and sore. If you sleep here you'll be achy in the morning."

Scorpius turned a bit and looked at him, his silver eyes catching a bit of the light. He looked so open and vulnerable that Albus couldn't stay mad for very long, especially with Scorpius studying him with such skepticism. It was the same way he looked at a puzzle - trying to figure it out and put the pieces together. Albus couldn't figure out what could possibly be so puzzling – he just wanted to fall asleep next to his fiancé.

 _I want every second I have,_ Albus thought.

"You know I'm stronger than you," Albus smirked. "I could just carry you up there, and if I do my leg will likely hurt tomorrow. Do you want to be responsible for that?"

"That's coercion," Scorpius said, his face finally breaking into a smile. "Not fair."

"I've never played fair," Albus said. He peeled back the blanket and drew Scorpius up to his feet. He grabbed Scorpius' neatly-folded glasses from the arm of the chair and slid them into his pocket as Zar whined in disapproval, having been dislodged. Albus wrapped an arm around Scorpius' waist, and together they climbed the stairs to their bedroom, their dog trotting behind them.

"I know it's summer, but I'm a bit chilly," Scorpius said.

"I'll light the fireplace in the bedroom," Albus offered. Scorpius nodded and let his head drop against Albus' shoulder until they made it to their room.

Scorpius fell into bed like a dead weight, his arm hanging awkwardly over the side for a moment until he motivated himself to curl up facing the small fireplace across the room. They'd only used it a few times on especially cold nights in the dead of winter, but Albus suspected it wasn't so much the fever that had Scorpius wanting some extra warmth. Scorpius often sought comforting, cozy things when he was upset to make himself feel safe, and Albus was happy to oblige.

He cleaned off a few fresh logs and tossed them into the fireplace before casting a quick _incendio_. Zar sat down beside him and stared into the fire pensively before turning to lick Albus' cheek a few times. Albus didn't even tell him to stop – he just scratched Zar behind the ears and quietly thanked him for looking after Scorpius.

Albus let the fire grow before casting a few charms his Aunt Hermione had taught him to keep it steady until dawn. He left Zar stretched out on the carpet near the fire and slipped into the cold side of the bed. Scorpius' breathing was steady and even, and after the last two days of knowing he was ill but being unable to care for him, he was grateful for just the sound.

 _It must have been awful for him_ , Albus thought, watching the rise and fall of Scorpius' ribs. _Here all alone, trying to hold on to a little bit of hope. That can't have been a kind place._

Albus wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around Scorpius and hold him where he was safe and cared for, but wasn't sure it would be welcome. He'd isolated himself to protect those he loved from a terrible truth to give them all more time to live their lives, which was quite possibly the most stereotypically-Scorpius thing he'd ever done, but maybe he'd also done it because whatever he was going through necessitated some space.

Scorpius' whisper was so quiet that Albus nearly didn't hear it.

"Al?"

"Yeah?"

There was a brief pause – just enough that Albus knew something was wrong – before Scorpius spoke again in a very small voice.

"I'm really scared."

Albus didn't hesitate to slide over and wrap both arms around him. His hand found its way up the front of Scorpius' t-shirt to rest against the warm skin of his chest, and Albus turned his face against the back of Scorpius' neck. He held Scorpius for a long moment, at a loss for words. Albus stayed quiet until Scorpius shifted closer to him and turned his face against the pillow in a useless effort to stifle a sniff.

"I know," Albus whispered, fighting the intense urge to hold him tighter. "What can I do?"

"Don't be angry with me," Scorpius said shakily. His breathing picked up an anxious pace. Albus didn't need to see his face to know that Scorpius was seconds from either tears or an anxiety attack, and Albus couldn't blame him one bit. It was a heartbreaking sound made even more devastating by knowing he was, at least in some small part, responsible.

"Come here," Albus said, drawing a hand back and tapping Scorpius' arm until he turned over. Albus took a moment to eliminate any space between them, weaving their legs together and wrapping his arms back around Scorpius until his head rested on Albus' arm just below his chin. Albus kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes and taking in the warmth.

"I'm not angry," Albus said, rubbing Scorpius' back in slow, soothing circles. "I don't know that I was ever truly angry. I was hurt when I thought you didn't trust me to help you. We always do everything together."

"I know, but –"

"Shhh," Albus shushed. "Let me finish. I didn't know what to think until I realized the other day that you had it too, and then I understood why you left without me and why you didn't tell me at your birthday, and then today… I thought I knew what to expect, but – and don't take this the wrong way because you're still the most handsome man Slytherin has ever seen – but you look a lot worse than I expected."

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to quit the program."

"I know," Albus said, carding his fingers through Scorpius' hair gently. "And I would have in a heartbeat. But in the beginning, I don't think I knew why I was so upset, but I figured it out."

Scorpius sniffed against Albus' chest. "Why?"

"Because I knew how hurt I was when I got home and you weren't here, but I know I would have done _exactly_ the same thing if I'd been in your shoes. I would have hurt you too."

"I'm still sorry," Scorpius apologized again. "I was frightened and wasn't thinking clearly."

"You don’t need to be frightened anymore," Albus said. "You're home, I'm going to take care of you, and that potion will be ready in a couple months."

"But what if it doesn't work?" Scorpius asked, drawing back to look at Albus. "I'm in uncharted territory here. I don't know what's going to happen to me if the cure doesn't work. Ainsley has a decade easily, but you heard them. At worst I'm already on borrowed –"

"Don't," Albus said, shaking his head. Scorpius' eyes were sad and tired for more reasons than Albus could count – more than he could even fathom. "I need you to stay alive, okay? Your dad needs you and Orion needs you. Ainsley needs you. And I need you too."

"I'm really scared, Al," he said again, and Albus bowed his head against Scorpius' so he couldn't see him. They'd never been afraid to cry in front of one another – not since fourth year when they'd take turns waking up screaming and frightened in the middle of the night with the specters of Dementors and Delphi, and flashes of bright green light hanging over them, and certainly not since their seventh year. Albus had always been grateful for that space, but now he wished he'd taught himself to keep his feelings in check.

"I'm scared too. I'm really, really scared of losing you," Albus admitted. "And I have to tell you, this is the third time I've had to be afraid of that and it's getting quite old," he teased.

"Third?" Scorpius wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"Yeah. The time you were kidnapped and that time we broke up for a couple weeks in sixth year."

"How on earth can you equate sixth year to the other _thing_ and this?"

"Well, as you know I was a very dramatic sixteen-year-old," Albus said. "It did feel like the end of the world at the time."

Scorpius couldn't help laughing, and Albus smiled, feeling like maybe he'd helped a little.

"You look tired," Scorpius said.

"I haven't slept. _Somebody_ needed a bloody Chimaera egg, and I was up last night thinking."

"About what? Knut for your thoughts?"

"Not sure they're worth a knut," Albus said. "I stayed at my parent's house. Just thinking about all the things that could happen and how much I wanted you to come home."

Scorpius' eyes softened and he leaned up a few inches to kiss Albus, who responded with gentle, tired enthusiasm. For good measure, Albus tightened his arms around him – probably more than was advisable – and kissed him until Scorpius sighed and broke away, his head falling back onto the pillow. He ran his foot down the inside of Albus' calf gently, his breathing slowed now to a soft rhythm that threatened to soothe Albus to sleep immediately.

"I came home," Scorpius said, yawning.

"That you did."

Scorpius fell asleep quickly, his breaths falling into the slow pattern that indicated a deep sleep. Albus stayed awake as long as he could, listening and watching, until rain began pouring outside the window and lulled him to sleep.

* * *

It was still raining when Scorpius woke up the following morning. He remembered waking at dawn to find himself still comfortably tangled up in Albus and the sheets with Zar lying across their feet. He was cold, but not with a fever – it must have broken in the middle of the night – and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to just exist there, in that moment. He watched Albus sleep – he was so endearing when he slept – until he dozed off again.

He must have slept for a while, because now the bed was empty. He checked Albus' discarded watch on the nightstand and saw that it was well after ten o'clock. As always, he reached toward his nightstand to retrieve his wand, but found its place empty and groaned. He was in no mood to handle Diagon Alley, and certainly not in this weather. He was happy to find his glasses, however. Albus must have brought them up last night, because Scorpius barely remembered taking them off downstairs.

Begrudgingly, he put his glasses on and dragged himself from bed. He rummaged around for a bit until he found his favorite black satin bathrobe folded in the closet ( _Pike has been here_ , he realized, because Albus never would have folded it so neatly). He put it on as he ventured down the stairs, following clinking sounds from the kitchen and the smell of bacon. He felt lighter this morning - still a bit sore and still in need of more rest – but after seeing his father and _finally_ clearing the air with Albus, a weight had been lifted.

Albus was well into making a full breakfast and was folding some scrambled eggs with one hand, the other occupied by a cup of coffee. His wand was stuffed unceremoniously into the pocket of his joggers.

"I thought you were a wizard," Scorpius said. Albus smirked in his direction.

"Dad taught me to cook by hand," Albus said. "It's worth using magic sometimes but it always comes out better if you do it this way, especially if it's a small meal."

Scorpius wondered if Harry had learned to cook before he'd gone to Hogwarts and if the Dursleys had the savior of the wizarding world cooking their eggs before he knew magic.

He didn't ask. Instead, Scorpius just stepped into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Albus' middle from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Good morning," Albus said, soft and amiable.

"It is," Scorpius agreed.

"Do you feel better?" Albus asked, turning the bacon.

"I do," Scorpius said. "Sleep helped, and I felt much better after we talked last night."

He felt Albus smile against his temple. "Me too," Albus said. Scorpius was grateful that Albus seemed content and pressed a kiss to his neck as Albus took the eggs and bacon off their burners and turned around.

"I've been up for an hour or so, and I was thinking," Albus began, smiling but tense, which immediately alarmed Scorpius. It was too close to the expression he wore when he was going to do something reckless.

"About what?" Scorpius asked warily.

Albus took his hand and looked at it for a moment, pressing his palm against Scorpius'. "At the risk of being overly soppy, I think we should get married."

"We've… already had this conversation."

"Today," Albus clarified. "We should get married today."

Scorpius stared at him, wide-eyed, feeling the color rush to his face (he wondered how that looked with the bruise on his face). While the idea of marching straight to the Ministry of Magic and demanding a marriage license and ceremony seemed like a great way to spend the day, Scorpius knew he couldn't do it. Not when Albus' motives were misaligned.

"Why?" Scorpius asked.

"Why? Because I love you and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you no matter what," Albus said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Scorpius felt a rush of affection for Albus and his impulsive-Potter streak, but knew better than to act on it. He shook his head.

"You're saying you'll spend the rest of _my_ life with me," Scorpius said, impressed with the solidity of his own voice when he was this reluctant. "So no, not today."

"What do you mean ' _no_?'" Albus asked, offended. "This is clearly one of the best ideas I've ever had."

"Do you want to get married because you're afraid I'm going to die?" Scorpius asked. His blunt tone made Albus cringe, which was as good as an answer. Albus paused and reached out, placing a hand on Scorpius' side.

"It bothered me a lot," Albus admitted. "What you said last night – you know, about whether or not I even still wanted to get married."

"I was half-asleep –"

"You meant it," said Albus, wounded. "You're always honest when you're half asleep. You genuinely weren't sure."

"Well, you were pretty angry!" Scorpius defended.

"I don't want you to wonder," Albus said. "I'm not leaving no matter the outcome with this potion. You should know that."

Scorpius played with the end of his robe tie, twisting it furiously around his fingers. He hadn't expected anything different from Albus, but he also knew tying him down before they knew for certain what the next few years would look like would be grossly unfair.

"I know you won't," Scorpius said. "But I don't want to marry you when neither of us knows what's going to happen. It's something your brother said after the Dementors – that I was willing to leave you a widower before you were thirty – and I'm _not_ willing to do that. Not unless we both know that's exactly what's happening."

"I'm already here for better or worse," Albus said, his expression shifting to one of sadness and resignation. "'Till death do us part.' Whenever that is."

"And I trust you," Scorpius said, wrapping his arms around Albus' waist. "But it wouldn't feel right and I want it to feel right. I want it to be perfect."

Albus sighed, resigned, and Scorpius kissed his cheek and neck to smooth over any feelings of rejection. He was encouraged when Albus didn't turn away.

"What's your idea of perfect?" Albus asked, sliding his arms around Scorpius' waist.

"For what?"

"Our wedding," Albus said. "I don't much care as long as it's you I'm marrying, but I'm guessing Malfoys have a particular way they do things."

Scorpius shrugged. With everything that had been going on, he hadn't given it much thought and most days he didn't dare think that far ahead, and when he did, Scorpius didn't see much beyond dancing with Albus and laughing with their family and friends.

"Honestly? I'm not sure," Scorpius admitted. "I guess… maybe the ceremony at the manor and the reception in the field by your parents' house? Or at the Burrow – that would make your grandmother quite happy, I imagine – and your mum."

Scorpius looked down at him and saw that Albus' eyes had softened. He was smiling at Scorpius with such fondness that Scorpius had to tighten his arm around Albus' shoulders and hold him closer.

"What?" he asked.

"You're amazing," Albus said softly. "You really are."

"What did I do?" Scorpius asked. Whatever it was, he wanted to keep doing it if it made Albus look at him like that.

But Albus didn't tell him. He just shook his head and rested against Scorpius' chest for a moment. How he'd managed to get his hands under Scorpius' robe unnoticed was a mystery, but Scorpius didn't mind too much until Albus, who always rubbed Scorpius' back in slow, soothing circles, accidentally pressed into a small bruise he'd gotten from bumping into a sink in a comically small bathroom in France a few days before. Scorpius was taken by surprise and didn't suppress the small groan.

"What? Did I hurt you?" Albus asked, pulling away.

"It's okay," Scorpius said with a shrug. "I've got all these little bumps and bruises from being in crowds and stuff. You'd be surprised how often you bump into things on a normal day."

Albus sighed and hung his head. "I might be able to help, you know. D'you want to take off your robe and let me see?"

"I'm not one of your injured creatures, you know," he chuckled. Albus blushed and stepped back.

"Sorry," Albus muttered. "I just want to help."

"And here I thought you were trying to get me out of my clothes," Scorpius smirked. He reached into the cabinet and pulled down two plates and began distributing eggs and bacon onto them. It wasn't until he reached for the forks that he realized Albus had gone quiet and was looking down at his bare feet, wiggling his toes awkwardly.

"Something wrong?"

"Hm? Nope," Albus said. Scorpius could tell he was lying.

Before he could press the matter, a swooshing sound from the fireplace announced someone had arrived. Scorpius looked over into the sitting room to see Dania stepping in looking composed as ever despite the uncharacteristic dark circles under her eyes, a basket of nearly-labeled bottles in her arms.

"Good morning," Scorpius greeted her, forcing a chipper voice.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be awake, to be honest," she said, smiling as she crossed into the kitchen. "I was just going to drop this off."

"Morning," Albus said. He had his plate in hand and took a forkful of eggs. "D'you want breakfast?"

"Oh, I can't stay," Dania said. Scorpius noticed she was in her healer's clothes again. "I've got to get back to the hospital. I've got a few long-term patients coming in today. I wanted to drop off your potions, Scorpius."

She began unloading an assortment of bottles and vials from the basket, which had clearly been fortified with an extendible charm. Just when he thought it must have been empty, she kept pulling things out, organizing them neatly on the counter into three groups of brightly colored potions. Though each container was neatly labeled, she lay a list of instructions out on the counter.

"Morning, noon and night," she said, pointing at each cluster in turn. "Take one of each color from each group every day. I tried to space them out to limit the fatigue but you won't be able to fight it forever. And this," she added, holding up the largest bottle. It held a shimmering liquid that swirled delicately. "Bath once a day with three capfuls of this. It's a circulation potion with some unusual ingredients – wiggentree bark, dittany, willow, and star grass."

"We use some of those at work," Albus said.

Scorpius took the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and was surprised to find that it had a pleasant smell – something that reminded him of summer afternoons when he was a child. He smiled wistfully.

"I added some lavender, too," Dania explained.

"Does lavender interact with something to help?" Albus asked.

"No," Dania laughed. "Draco just said Scorpius was obsessed with the smell of lavender as a child, so I added it."

"How on earth can you be obsessed with a smell?" Albus asked Scorpius.

"Mum liked to garden," Scorpius explained. "I decided I liked lavender and I'd sit outside with the lavender plants for hours. If I was still enough, the bunnies would come out."

"That's adorable," Albus said, smirking through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Scorpius blushed and sealed the bottle again, setting it aside. Dania stared at him expectantly, but Scorpius wasn't sure what she wanted him to do and he very much wanted to get back to breakfast. After a moment of confusion, Dania held out three vials to Scorpius – one of each color – from the morning pile.

"Oh," Scorpius mumbled, taking them. "Did dad ask you to make sure I took my medicine?"

"No, this demand is entirely my own," Dania said tightly. "Draco's still asleep. He didn't have a restful night."

"Is he okay?"

Dania sighed as Scorpius unstoppered the first vial and swallowed its bitter contents. A shiver ran down his spine when he tasted it and he cringed.

"He was up most of the night," Dania said. "Your father doesn't sleep well when he's upset and yesterday wasn't easy."

Scorpius exchanged a troubled look with Albus. He didn't want Draco to be upset but knew there wasn't much he could do right now. He wasn't even sure his presence would do much good until he didn't look quite as ill – if these potions could even provide that. Hopefully the bruise on his face would continue to improve.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said. Dania shook her head.

"It's not your fault," she assured him. "It just… is."

Scorpius took the other two vials of potions silently and found that each tasted worse than the last. He eyed the piles on the counter bitterly – there was at least a 30-day supply there and he knew he'd be taking them even longer. He shivered again at the taste and looked around frantically for a drink.

"Well, I'm off," Dania said, satisfied now that Scorpius had taken his medicine. "We'll be expecting you for dinner, yes?"

"Yes ma'am," answered Albus as Scorpius stuck his head into the sink and turned on the tap. For more than a minute he drank straight from the faucet, eager to wash the taste from his mouth. He heard Dania leave through the Floo and Albus began laughing immediately once she was gone.

"Are they that bad?" Albus asked. Scorpius didn't answer until he got the earthy taste out and finally stood up, wiping his mouth.

"Yes," Scorpius groaned. "It's awful."

"Well, fortunately your breakfast is already done," Albus said, handing Scorpius his plate. His own was already half empty, but he joined Scorpius on the sitting room sofa anyway. They ate slowly, in silence, until Scorpius asked –

"Are you going in to work at all today?"

Albus shook his head. "No. I owled Charlie yesterday from my parents' place. He's covering for me. I'll go back in tomorrow."

Scorpius nodded, grateful for the distraction. "That was nice of him," he said. "I don't know what I'm going to do now that I don't have a job. I suppose I should start looking for another one."

"Focus on staying healthy," Albus said. Scorpius liked the way he said it – _staying_ healthy, like he didn't currently look more pale than normal and half-dead. "At least for now. Then once this is over you can find something to get into if you want. But you don't _have_ to work at all," Albus said.

Scorpius shook his head. "I don't want to live on the Malfoy money." Scorpius took another bite of his breakfast. "I really want to do _something_ with my life."

"But Scorp, I make a decent amount. We're not paying for the house or anything, and as much as I hate to admit it, your dad would be more than happy to get you whatever you need."

"No, Albus." Scorpius sighed and put his fork down, frustrated. "I just don't know what to do. I always wanted to be a historian and find a way to make a difference with that." Albus' pity, for once, wasn't unwelcome. He placed a warm hand on the back of Scorpius' neck as he bowed his head in shame. "I can't believe I was so reckless."

"You and me both," Albus laughed. "You're good at everything you set your mind to, or do you not remember beating me and all our dorm mates on every test?"

"I remember you and Flint giving me a hard time about it," Scorpius grumbled, setting his empty plate aside. He scooted closer to Albus until he was pressed into his side.

"Well, we were jealous," Albus admitted, and Scorpius thought it was very mature of him to do so. "There's tons you're good at and I'm sure there's someone we know who could look beyond the whole thief thing."

"And the 'Son of Voldemort' thing, and the 'uncontrolled powers' thing? Let's face it, Albus – I blew it."

Albus sighed and withdrew his hand. "You may be right," he said honestly. "But even if you did, you'll find something you love to do. And if not you can learn to cook and be my house husband."

"Me? Cook?" Scorpius asked in mock offense. "I thought you wanted me to live, Albus."

They laughed, but Scorpius noticed it didn't quite reach Albus' eyes. He had always loved it when he could make Albus laugh and smile and he knew all the different kinds – there was Albus' deep, hearty laugh when he found something truly, deeply funny; the quick _ha_ when he was taken off guard; his scoff of amused derision that was usually accompanied by a small smile; and the soft, kind chuckle that seemed to be reserved for Scorpius exclusively. He hadn't seen or heard any of those since he'd come home.

"Albus?"

"Yeah?"

"What can I do to make this easier for you?"

Albus looked at him, a small crease forming between his eyes. "I'm worried about making it easier for you, Scorp. Not myself."

"It affects you too," Scorpius acknowledged, looking down at his hands, his throat suddenly tight and constricted. "I-I know I've hurt you. I probably just did it again when I said I wouldn't marry you until this was over –"

"Maybe a little."

" – and I'm so sorry. I hope you understand –"

"Of course I do."

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," Scorpius said, his heart picking up pace as he thought of all the things that worried him – and the list was long. "And I've upset everyone but you – well, you and my dad – you're the most important people and I want to make it right –"

"Scorpius, you're rambling –"

"And I wish everything could just be normal. I wish Ainsley and I hadn't gotten sick. I was so sure it wasn't going to happen, but right on cue in our late teens it cropped up –"

"Scorp?"

"And that's my problem – my family's problem – and now it's affecting more and more people and it's not fair and I'm your _unemployed_ fiancé who's terribly needy –"

Albus cut him off by scooting closer and, as he had the day before, placed both his hands on either side of Scorpius' jaw to silence him. Scorpius looked up at him, feeling much like a scolded puppy when Albus began to talk.

"You're panicking," Albus said plainly. "We're fine, Scorpius. Truly. I'm not mad at you. I'm scared, but not mad, and neither is your father, so stop worrying about that."

"Okay," Scorpius whispered.

"And I couldn't care less that you lost your job. The only thing I care about is that you're well and here with me."

"But I screwed up –"

"You did what you had to do and it had consequences. That doesn't change that you had to do it," Albus said. "I didn't understand before, since it seemed Ainsley wasn't too ill yet, but it is affecting you differently. Faster. So what was the alternative? Doing nothing, or having it take too long?"

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Exactly, so you did what you needed to," Albus said. Scorpius closed his eyes and leaned into Albus' palm. Albus always had a way of talking him down when things got confusing and stressful, and he was so grateful.

Albus released him and Scorpius took a deep breath, the pressure in his throat loosening slowly as Albus kept his hand against his cheek, the other migrating down to find Scorpius' hand.

"I love you," Scorpius said. "I haven't told you that face-to-face for a while."

"I know you do," Albus said calmly. Scorpius opened his eyes to see Albus smiling at him, his green eyes warm and inviting. "I love you too."

Scorpius took a moment to appreciate the forgiveness and calm of the moment. He'd felt like so many things had been pressing in on him for so long that Scorpius was certain he'd been existing on adrenaline for months, and now the world felt slow – far slower than normal – and he felt very present in it. For the first time in ages he wasn't trying to work out where to search next or speculating whether or not he could find a potential cure, or even trying to juggle his hunt with work and his family.

Albus' thumb brushed over the dark bruise on Scorpius' cheek. "Even with this, you're still terribly good-looking," Albus said, smirking, and Scorpius had no choice but to kiss him and wipe that smirk off his face.

Albus' hands came up to Scorpius' shoulder as he kissed back slowly and carefully. Scorpius showed no hesitation and responded eagerly, his regard for avoiding more bruises thrown away with the first small gasp he elicited from Albus. He pressed Albus back against the pillows and the arm of the sofa and Albus complied quickly until Scorpius had his arms on either side of Albus' shoulders, hovering over him. He dipped down to kiss Albus again and was met with Albus' hand sinking into his hair and his other arm wrapped around Scorpius' waist, pulling him down.

Scorpius would have been lying if he said he hadn't missed this a great deal, and knowing Albus wasn't angry with him did nothing to quell how much he wanted him. He let Albus pull him down into the warmth of his chest, and Scorpius shut everything else out, focusing entirely on Albus and making him happy.

His senses went haywire as Albus slid one hand up the back of his pajama top, ghosting over the spot between his shoulder blades. He shivered and Albus laughed, which Scorpius thought was entirely unacceptable, so he ducked down further to kiss Albus' neck, finding his most sensitive spot just below his ear very quickly (it was well marked with a small mole that Scorpius had been thankful for when he'd first found it in their sixth year). Albus gasped, wrinkling his nose and twitching just enough to let Scorpius know he had him right where he wanted him.

He smiled against Albus' skin. This, at least, was entirely normal and familiar. He'd felt Albus' hands on him a thousand times over the years, but it never lost its luster and judging from the way Albus pushed his way up to remove Scorpius' glasses and toss them to the floor, he was no less enthusiastic than he'd ever been.

Everything was fine until Scorpius, who'd found his hands wandering of their own accord down Albus' sides and across his stomach – he was right, Albus _had_ gotten stronger - and wrapped his fingers around the tied drawstring of Albus' worn Holyhead Harpies joggers. Albus caught his wrist and pulled back, looking up at him, his pupils wide and hair in disarray.

"What's wrong?" Scorpius asked, braced on his elbow. They stared at one another, at an impasse. He refused to let go of the string, and Albus refused to let go of Scorpius' wrist.

Albus swallowed and shook his head regretfully. "We can't."

"Why not?" Scorpius asked, aghast. He was certain those were words Albus had never said to him before, and now really didn't seem like the time to start, unless… "oh, no – you _are_ still cross with me, aren't you?"

"No!" Albus said quickly. He released Scorpius' hand and raised his own to the back of Scorpius' neck. "Merlin, no. I just…" He struggled to find the words, wrinkling his freckled nose and biting his lip. He waited long enough that Scorpius was about to tell him how grossly unfair the combination of his bright eyes and long, dark eyelashes were when Albus muttered so softly that Scorpius barely heard him –

"I don't want to hurt you."

The idea, Scorpius thought, was entirely laughable. "What?"

"Well, I mean you're already all bruised up and you said it was really easy for you to wind up with more," Albus explained. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Albus, I've watched you mend creatures' broken bones without so much as a whimper from them," Scorpius said quietly. "You're the gentlest person I know. You're not going to hurt me."

"But what if –"

Scorpius shook his head. "You've never hurt me before."

"But -"

"I'm not made of glass," Scorpius assured him, and before Albus could offer another protest, he kissed him again, his movements slow and deliberate. Finally, he felt Albus relax under his hands.

"Are you sure?" Albus asked.

"I trust you," Scorpius assured him and let Albus pull him down again, eliminating the space between them as he was so skilled at doing. Albus kissed him until Scorpius couldn’t feel any pain – he couldn't feel anything at all beyond the warm comfort of Albus' hands roaming across his back and over his sides. As Albus helped pull off the top of his pajamas, Scorpius put all his worries and concerns away, which was far too easy with Albus' eager eyes watching his every move, and his earnest hands making quick work of every piece of fabric between them.

* * *

Albus lay as still as possible, drifting in and out of sleep for a couple hours before carefully digging for his wand off the floor (he'd tossed it aside after quickly disabling the Floo connection. Albus had no intentions of being interrupted), and summoning a book. Scorpius was fast asleep with his head on Albus' shoulder and legs tangled in Albus', and he had been for several hours. Albus didn't have the heart to wake him, and even Zar seemed to understand, because when he found them downstairs half asleep, he just stretched out beside the sofa and took a nap himself.

By the time late afternoon came around, Albus had already dozed off as much as he could and had read nearly a third of _Great Expectations_ – something he'd told Scorpius he'd read ages ago but had never gotten around to. He was bored out of his mind but completely unwilling to wake him, and so he kept turning the pages, stopping only to stroke Scorpius' shoulder when his hands and jaw began to twitch – the first signs of a bad dream.

Around four o'clock, Scorpius turned his face into Albus' chest with a groan.

"Ugh, how long was I out for?"

"A while," Albus told him, gratefully setting aside Charles Dickens in favor of playing with Scorpius' hair while he woke. Even a conversation with the most groggy and tired version of his fiancé would be more stimulating than the dull adventures of Pip. Actually, Albus figured a conversation with a sleeping Scorpius (or even a wall) would be more stimulating than another chapter of that book.

From the other room, the clock chimed. He felt Scorpius ticking off the hours on his fingers, pressing them into his side one-by-one and fought back laughter when it tickled.

"Merlin, it's late," Scorpius moaned, shifting until he could look up at Albus. He hoped he wasn't imagining the improvement in the bruise across Scorpius' cheek – it seemed lighter already.

"Do you still want to go to your dad's for dinner?" Albus asked.

"I guess. Do you?"

"If I'm honest I'd rather stay right here," Albus said, sweeping his hand down Scorpius' side to his bare hip. "But I suppose we do need to eat."

"Maybe we can go to Diagon Alley for dinner," Scorpius said.

"You'd have to put clothes on," Albus reminded him. "Not really in favor of that part."

"Me either," Scorpius said, turning to kiss just over Albus' heart. An all-consuming warmth came over Albus – the kind he associated exclusively with quiet moments with Scorpius because he experienced the feeling nowhere else. Albus slid down a bit so he could kiss him again, one hand moving to his jaw to hold him in place. Scorpius hummed contentedly and Albus could feel his lips twitch into a smile, and when they broke apart he was pleased to see a serene look across Scorpius' face.

"Maybe we can go get ice cream after we visit Ollivander's?" Scorpius asked hopefully. Albus smiled softly at him, encouraged by his simple requests.

"At least you're consistent," Albus said. "Always after the sweets."

"I'm nothing if not devoted," Scorpius said through a yawn. "We should probably get going soon."

Albus nodded in agreement, but neither moved to get up. Scorpius just lay his head back down over Albus' chest, and though he'd been dying to get up and move for hours, Albus found himself suddenly reluctant to break the calm and quiet. For several minutes he stayed still, letting Scorpius walk his fingers up and down his side and draw idle circles with his fingers across Albus' chest before finding the amulet still hanging around his neck. He felt Scorpius smile against his chest as he examined it, running his fingers over each scratch and dent Albus had put in the amber over the years. With dread, Albus remembered he'd have to go in to work tomorrow, and he tried to justify skipping out – surely there was a precedent for missing work if your fiancé _might_ be dying – but he knew it would be no use. Scorpius wouldn't have it but Albus suspected the most boring day spent taking care of him would be better than the best day at work.

* * *

Though the rain had stopped hours ago, Diagon Alley was still damp – the shop signs dripping and puddles lining the cobbled street as they walked down the lane with Draco. Despite looking a bit worse for the wear, Scorpius held his head high against the stares of shoppers as they passed, and even dared venture into Flourish and Blotts where Draco seemed inclined to buy every book he showed the slightest interest in. Albus had learned a long time ago not to get between Scorpius and Draco where shopping was concerned. Draco was willing to buy anything he thought would put a smile on a loved one's face, and Scorpius had never learned to wait for the things he was interested in, so the pair were a potent and expensive combination. Albus suspected Orion would be even worse with both Draco _and_ Scorpius available to spoil him, and Albus knew he wouldn't be much of a mitigating factor. The kid was pretty damn cute, and Albus _had_ brought him back no less than three stuffed animals (a dragon, a mooncalf, and a niffler because he just couldn't decide) from the wizarding village outside Castelobruxo.

After a lengthy trip to Ollivanders where Scorpius tried no less than ten wands, he was matched with a moderately-pliable hazel wand with a unicorn hair core. They were admiring it as they walked down the street, the late evening summer sun lighting the alley with a warm, golden hue that Albus thought made Scorpius look much healthier and vibrant. He hoped it wasn't just a trick of the light as Scorpius grinned, pleased with his new wand.

"It feels right," Scorpius said, admiring the handle. Like his other two, this wand was more rough-hewn than any Albus had seen in either of their families. Scorpius had never had anything other than unicorn hair, which Albus found fitting. Unicorns were unique and kind creatures, each with their own distinctive personality underneath their caring nature. Besides, it seemed only right that both Scorpius and Draco shared the same wand core.

"Try not to break this one," Draco teased and Scorpius smiled bashfully, tucking the wand away in his pocket.

"I'll do my best," Scorpius assured him.

"Are you going to carve on this one?" Albus asked, remembering Scorpius' first wand.

"Maybe," Scorpius said thoughtfully as they meandered down the alley, Draco walking a few paces ahead to look at something in the window of Scribbulus Writing Instruments. In his periphery, he saw a mother eyeing them, holding her son close to her side as she hurried past them. Scorpius pretended not to notice, but the way he swallowed and lowered his eyes for a second told Albus he had. "But I might wait a bit."

"Why?"

"Well, the first thing I carved on the others was my initials," Scorpius said thoughtfully, nudging his glasses back up his nose as they kept sliding down in the after-rain humidity. He smiled down at Albus as they walked. "I suppose they'll be changing soon enough."

"We are right near the Ministry," Albus reminded him, grinning and hopeful. "We could just go there now – save us a trip later."

"Not right now, Albus," Scorpius said, wrapping an arm around Albus' shoulders. Albus leaned into him, breathing in the smell of his soap and the expensive cologne his father kept buying him at birthdays.

"I'm not going to let this go," Albus teased him.

"Ah, you wouldn't be you if you did," Scorpius said.

In the distance, Albus spotted two familiar faces, though it took him a moment to recognize them. Ainsley pointed down the alley at them, and as soon as James spotted them, he waved enthusiastically, picking up his pace.

"What are you doing down here?" Scorpius asked, his voice friendly and light. Surely he'd never addressed James in that tone before. Ainsley detoured to catch Draco at the shop window as James approached them, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Handing in my Gringotts badge," he said with a shrug. "I've been formally sacked."

"I'm not surprised," Albus admitted.

"I'm so sorry," Scorpius said, possibly for the millionth time in a 24-hour period.

"Don't be." James shook his head. "I knew what I was doing and that there could be consequences."

"Still."

"No regrets," James said cheerfully as Ainsley and Draco joined them. Albus shook his head in disbelief at his brother's easy acceptance.

"Gryffindors," he muttered. Scorpius smiled at him, but it was quickly interrupted by a yawn.

"Are you feeling alright?" Draco asked for – Albus had counted – the twelfth time since they'd met him at the manor.

"I'm _fine_ , dad," Scorpius replied, amused. "I took a very long nap this afternoon _and_ I took all of my potions on time. Please – chill out."

Albus was certain Draco had never 'chilled out' for a moment in his life and tried not to laugh as Draco stared at his son, incredulous.

"D'you want to go the Leaky Cauldron?" Ainsley asked, grinning. "We were thinking some fish and chips sounded good."

"Ugh, fish," Scorpius mumbled.

Draco was looking past her at a man sitting along a low stone wall. He was writing in a notepad, glancing up at them from under his hat as if trying to go unnoticed. Albus glared at the man and he looked down quickly. Albus recognized him as one of the _Daily Prophet_ reporters who'd written a scathing article about his "twisted" relationship with the Malfoy heir under the tutelage of Rita Skeeter.

"Perhaps we should head back into muggle London," Draco said. "We're attracting a lot of attention here."

"Two Malfoys and two Potters will do that," James said.

Scorpius and Draco corrected him together. "Three Malfoys."

Ainsley smirked at them and James held his hands up in concession, laughing. "Three Malfoys. Sorry."

"Probably for the best," Albus said. "I'm not sure I'm up to dueling a _Prophet_ reporter today."

"And only one of us can be black-and-blue at a time," Scorpius said as they started heading towards the alley exit.

"Is that a new rule?" Albus asked. Scorpius nodded eagerly.

"It is. I just made it. I'll start keeping a list if you'd like. Pin it to the refrigerator."

"Might be useful," Albus said, slipping his hand into Scorpius' as they approached the brick wall. Scorpius excitedly drew his new wand and tapped the pattern into the bricks to let them out. If today was any indication, Scorpius' boundless energy would carry him through the next two months easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for fitting this chapter into her busy schedule!
> 
> Coming soon:  
> Albus is persistent.  
> Scorpius sleeps too much.  
> Albus' and James have a long talk.  
> Draco obsesses.  
> Things get serious.
> 
>  
> 
> [Currently accepting prompts I may or may not ever get to because I won't know what to do with myself when I finish this.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	18. Countdown

**59 days**

Scorpius often felt that home wasn't a place – it was the comfort of a routine, the sound of Albus' voice, the tapping of Zar's claws on the hardwood floors, and the smell of coffee in the mornings. After only his second night back, Scorpius felt infinitely better all the way into his bones, and when he joined Albus, who was already dressed for work, in the kitchen, he bounced across the floor in his excitement.

"Good morning!"

Albus looked up at him over his coffee mug, an amused smile already in place.

"Someone's feeling rested."

"I am," Scorpius confirmed. " _And_ I only had one nightmare last night."

"It's the little victories," Albus said. Scorpius nodded in agreement.

He kissed Albus on each cheek and his forehead before dipping down and kissing him properly. Albus set his mug on the counter behind him quickly and grasped Scorpius' pajama top, preventing an escape and holding him in place. He responded carefully but enthusiastically, threading his hand into Scorpius' hair and pulling him closer until Scorpius had to brace himself against the counter.

When Albus settled back down off his tip-toes – Scorpius sometimes forgot he was a full three inches taller than Albus – Scorpius nodded as if he'd come to some great conclusion.

"This is definitely the best way to wake up," he surmised.

"Yeah?" said Albus brightly. "Well, you can have that every day."

"Can I?"

"Yup. All you have to do is marry me today."

Scorpius groaned and stepped back. He should have known Albus seeming so bright and awake at this hour was unnatural and not without motive.

"But I told you –"

"That was yesterday," Albus said, resuming his morning coffee ritual. "This is today."

Scorpius looked at him fondly as he poured his own coffee and loaded it with cream and sugar.

"Not today, Albus," he said.

Albus pouted at him. It was normally how he got his way with trivial things, and Scorpius had to remind himself that this wasn't trivial. He was able to look in Albus' pleading eyes only because when he did, he heard James' voice saying the word _widower_.

"You know why," Scorpius reminded him. Albus softened a bit and nodded.

"I do," Albus confirmed.

"I haven't heard the end of this, have I?"

"Absolutely not." Albus took a resolute drink from his mug and answered Scorpius' sigh by sliding a plate of toast and jam across the counter toward him. "You need to eat before you take your potions."

Scorpius eyed the morning basket. Albus had organized them neatly by color.

"Can't wait," he said bitterly. Albus gave him a sympathetic look before Scorpius joined him, leaning back on the counter as he bit into his first piece of toast. Albus leaned against him, nuzzling his face against Scorpius' bicep until he wrapped his arm around Albus' shoulders.

"Are you sure you have to work today?" Scorpius asked.

"Yes," Albus said. "But weddings are a valid excuse to skip work, you know."

Scorpius sighed and looked up to the dark wood beams of their ceiling. It was going to be a long two months.

* * *

After spending some time reading in the library and enjoying some silence, Scorpius headed over to the Malfoy Manor in remarkably good spirits. His good mood had lasted throughout the morning, and he was already looking forward to this evening when Albus would come home and they could start working through some old muggle films Grandpa Weasley had given them at Christmas ("A whole collection of them!" Arthur had said, "And you have that DBD thing so you can watch them!").

When he got to the manor, however, he found Draco's study vacant. He checked his watch and felt a bit of fear prickle up the back of his neck. Draco almost always had his lunch and tea at noon in his study – it was a ritual he found very comforting. Scorpius expected him to be seeking a very calm day, as he'd seemed very tired when they'd parted the evening before.

Scorpius checked the kitchen and library before hearing hushed voices down the second floor hall. He followed them, gripping the handle of his wand in his pocket until he recognized the voices. He nudged the door to one of the spare rooms open.

Inside was dark – the curtains were drawn and only a few candles were lit around the room. It was spotless and mostly bare save two tables – one in the center of the room with a simmering gold cauldron and a long table along the wall covered in potions ingredients. It smelled somewhat like the potions dungeon at Hogwarts and brought back mixed memories – some of failure and anxiety, and others of smiles through potions smoke and jokes told over textbooks.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," said a familiar female voice, and as Scorpius' eyes adjusted to the low light and he slipped into the room, he recognized the three figures standing around the center table. His father was accompanied by Professor McGonagall and a very harassed-looking Professor Slughorn.

"Ah, Scorpius, m'boy," said Slughorn, gripping his the table for stability. He looked a bit more frail than he had in their last days at Hogwarts, but he still managed to smile at Scorpius and beckon him forward. Scorpius closed the door behind himself and shoved his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable with seeing his former Head of House and Headmistress on such short notice.

"Hello, Scorpius," Draco greeted. "Professor Slughorn was just checking on the potion. He started it yesterday."

"With all the ingredients restrictions and timing complications, it should be ready around the end of August – the 28th, I'm guessing," Slughorn explained. Scorpius was alarmed to see that he was wearing thick potions gloves made of dragon hide – the kind normally reserved for particularly caustic brews. "You should be prepared, though – this might have some nasty side effects. Stripping a long-standing curse from someone's body is nasty business."

Scorpius tried not to think about it. He stepped forward to peer into the cauldron, he was dismayed to find that it looked like thick black tar instead of something more appealing.

"Don't worry, Malfoy," McGonagall said, her hand on his shoulder. Professor McGonagall had developed a soft spot for Scorpius toward the end of his Hogwarts career, and Scorpius knew she was here to check in on him. "It should thin out before it's done."

"Well, that's encouraging," Scorpius grumbled. "Why on earth are you using a _gold_ cauldron?"

"Gold interacts with nearly nothing, even under extreme temperatures," Slughorn said, stirring the cauldron.

Draco folded his arms, eyeing the potion as it bubbled. "I'm not taking any chances."

"Nor should you," McGonagall said. She looked at Scorpius and gave him a warm, friendly smile before looking back to Draco. Scorpius stared down into the cauldron, mesmerized by the rolling bubbles and thick consistency. The potion had a dark shimmer across the surface like an oil slick in the center of a city road. "You've got the best potions master on the case," she assured him, "and you have all of the Hogwarts staff at your disposal."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Draco said.

Slughorn stepped back and removed his gloves, seemingly satisfied with his work. "Draco said you found the information buried in the archive," Slughorn said. It took Scorpius a moment to realize he was being addressed and snapped his attention away from the cauldron.

"Yes, sir," he confirmed.

"I'd love to know what else is down there," he said with relish.

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't we all?"

"Maybe one of you can convince Granger to look into it," Draco said.

Scorpius looked to his father. "Do we still have the things I took from the archive? They could see those –"

Draco shook his head solemnly.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was dispatched to seize the stolen goods," Draco said. "I had to hand everything over to avoid the entire manor being sacked."

McGonagall looked like she thought that might not have been such a bad idea, but held her tongue.

"I may indeed have words with the Minister," McGonagall said before looking to Scorpius. "How have you been holding up? Still have that magic under control?"

"Yes, Professor," Scorpius said. "I mean – I haven't had any issues with it, but I can't use wandless magic much now. It um… well, it seems to be a side effect of the curse, and it's quite painful."

"A side effect?" McGonagall asked, alarmed. She sighed and shook her head. "I suppose it's my fault. I should have looked into the cause of your powers instead of simply trying to help you control it. I'm sorry."

"No," Scorpius said quickly. "No, you probably saved my life and you certainly saved my health. If anything learning to control it has probably gotten me this far. We had no reason to believe –"

Scorpius chanced a look at Draco. He wasn't sure if Brutus' actions should be common knowledge, or how much he'd already told Slughorn. Draco shrugged and nodded, giving permission.

"We had no reason to believe that it was a Malfoy ancestor who cursed the Greengrass family," Scorpius said. Slughorn looked at Draco, wide-eyed.

"A Malfoy?" he asked. "So it'll be your blood we're using?"

Draco nodded solemnly. McGonagall cringed.

"Blood magic is a horrid thing," she said.

"Fortunately, the blood is transfigured when it's added," Slughorn said. "Scorpius won't actually be drinking… well…"

An awkward silence hung over the room and Scorpius considered his good fortune that he wasn't actually going to have to consume anyone's blood. Eventually, McGonagall looked at her watch and sighed.

"Come on, Horace," she said, begrudgingly. "We have our midsummer faculty meeting in an hour and you need to meet with the new potions master."

"Do I?"

"Yes," she said. She shot Scorpius a sly almost-smile. "I'm not a fan of summer faculty meetings."

"Then why do you schedule them?" Slughorn grumbled. He seized his cane that had been leaning against the table and started moving slowly toward the door. Draco walked beside him, looking concerned for his stability. Scorpius eyed him closely. Seeing anyone walk with a cane always struck him with a pang of longing for Albus, and suddenly regretted coming here for lunch instead of intercepting Albus during one of his breaks.

"And how is Albus doing?" McGonagall asked, clearly reminded of him as well.

"He's well," Scorpius said, smiling to himself. They walked slowly down the main staircase, keeping their distance from Slughorn who was taking his time moving step-by-step, holding onto Draco's proffered arm. "His leg is nearly perfect now. There were some curse-breaking healers at the program he joined in Brazil."

"That's very fortunate," McGonagall said. "I often find myself worried about students when they leave, but I must say, I worried quite a bit about you and Mr. Potter after your graduation."

"We're doing as well as we can be," Scorpius said with a shrug.

"And what's this I hear about an engagement?" McGonagall asked. Scorpius smiled and felt his face flush with the thought.

"As soon as all this is over," Scorpius said.

"Well, I expect an invitation," she ordered. Scorpius was pleased to receive a rare, full-McGonagall smile. It felt like an accomplishment.

"Yes, Professor," Scorpius said. "I'll send it myself."

When they'd arrived at the fireplace, Scorpius thanked Slughorn for personally overseeing the matter. He and Draco bid them adieu, and when the emerald color had faded from the fire, Scorpius sank down onto the couch. The energy he'd woken with had faded fast and he sighed, looking up at Draco.

"Are you feeling well?" Draco asked. He pressed his cold hand to Scorpius' forehead to check his temperature. Scorpius playfully batted it away – but not before Draco had the chance to realize he was fine.

"Don't start," Scorpius teased, though he did appreciate his father's concern. "I'm fine. Just easily winded."

Draco gave a brief sneer of disapproval that was quickly broken by Ainsley's entrance. She yawned, bouncing a fussy Orion in her arms.

"Did you skip work today?" Scorpius asked.

"Yup," she confirmed. "I'm only going in three days a week right now. They owl me if it's important."

Scorpius held his arms out for his infant brother and Ainsley handed him over gratefully.

"Thank you for looking after him while I talked with Slughorn," Draco said. Ainsley grinned at him and sat down beside Scorpius.

"It's not like he's a difficult baby," Ainsley said. "You should see some of the ones that come through my office, Draco. I'll never complain about Orion's hair-pulling tendencies again."

Draco laughed and his and Ainsley's voices faded into the background as Scorpius focused solely on his little brother. He drew his knees up and settled him so that Orion rested back against his legs, facing him. He squirmed for a moment in his green striped onesie before calming down and staring up at Scorpius with familiar gray eyes. It warmed Scorpius from head to toe to see him happy and healthy, and he tapped Orion's nose gently with his index finger just to hear him giggle.

"There you go," Scorpius whispered. Draco and Ainsley may have been in the room, but he felt he was having a truly private moment with his baby brother while they chatted about the coming week, Slughorn's potions, and whether or not they'd be able to go to the Holyhead Harpies game on Sunday.

"You're not worried about Quidditch yet, are you?" Scorpius asked Orion, who simply drooled a bit in response. "You're not worried about a thing. All you've got to do is smile and eat and sleep."

Orion grabbed at Scorpius' hair (he _had_ to remember to get it cut soon) and Scorpius was more than happy to lean forward and let him grab a fistful to tug on.

"You like shiny things," Scorpius realized with a chuckle. "I guess you're a true Malfoy then."

After a few minutes, Orion grew bored with trying to pull Scorpius' hair out (though he had succeeded in dislodging a few strands), and he squirmed a bit more against Scorpius' legs, his eyes bright and searching as he looked up at his big brother's face. Scorpius wondered what he'd look like in a few years – if he'd still look so much like Draco or if some of Dania's genes would take over. He wondered if Orion would be good at flying but terrible at Quidditch like he was, or if he'd be a natural athlete. He wondered which house he'd be in – Scorpius hoped he'd be a Ravenclaw so he'd get a different experience than the rest of his family – and he wondered if he'd like spending time with his older brother and Albus.

"I can already tell you'll be the cooler of the Malfoy kids," Scorpius said, smirking as Orion calmed down in his hands. He pulled a small cashmere blanket from the back of the sofa and threw it over them both, cuddling his baby brother close and resting his cheek against the back cushion. "Don’t worry – it's not much of a challenge. I was never particularly cool."

Orion gave a great yawn and Scorpius rested him against his chest, closing his eyes. He wondered a lot of things about Orion's future, but most of all he wondered if he'd get to see it.

* * *

**58 days**

Scorpius dragged himself down the stairs the following morning, determined to spend at least a few minutes with Albus before he headed to work. His feet felt like lead after a poor night's sleep, and he wanted nothing more than to drag Albus back upstairs and go back to bed for the rest of the day. Sadly, the magizoo had obtained an injured Thestral, and only a few people in the rehabilitation unit were able to see the creature, and Albus' presence was required.

"Ah! Just in time," Albus said as Scorpius entered. His cheerful smile fell when he saw the dark circles under Scorpius' eyes. Scorpius smelled the pancakes before he saw them and forced a smile, kissing Albus as he passed by to his seat at the kitchen bar.

"Smells good," Scorpius mumbled, resting his head wearily on his hand.

"Are you not feeling well?" Albus asked. His brow was furrowed in concern, and Scorpius' smile became genuine. Albus' concern was always endearing.

"I'm fine," Scorpius assured him. "I just didn't sleep well."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed to sleep," Scorpius said. "No sense in both of us being tired."

Albus looked like he was torn between arguing and keeping breakfast from burning. Breakfast won his attention and he turned back to the stove, using a spatula to move the last of the pancakes to a plate before walking over to Scorpius. He held his hands out for one of the plates, but Albus jerked it out of reach and handed him the other one.

"Does it matter which one?" Scorpius grumbled.

"Maybe."

Scorpius set the plate down in front of him. He knew there was something wrong about the top pancake instantly, but it took a moment for him to realize that it was a blueberry pancake, and the berries were arranged sloppily in the batter to spell out "marry me?" The question mark was drawn in whipped cream.

Albus grinned at him – the kind of grin that told Scorpius he wasn't expecting to be told "yes" at all, but that he was simply being obtuse. Instead of even pretending to be serious, Albus leaned across the counter and stared at Scorpius with the most exaggerated soppy look he could muster, batting his long, dark eyelashes until Scorpius started laughing. Albus straightened, having clearly achieved his true goal.

"No, Albus," Scorpius said. He speared the pancake with his fork and tore off the first 'm,' eating it in one bite.

"Now that's just rude," Albus laughed, staring at his work destroyed on the plate.

* * *

**57 days**

Albus was excited to arrive home in the evening. He had a bag full of groceries and plans for making an excellent trifle that was sure to put a smile on Scorpius' face. He set the two heavy bags down on the counter as quickly as he could and spent a moment calming Zar before calling out to the empty house.

"Scorp?" he yelled. "Where are you?"

"Up here!"

Zar barked thrice and took off up the stairs, and Albus followed. The dog's tail swayed so violently with excitement that he could scarcely walk in a straight line, but he somehow beat Albus to the door of the house's largest bathroom. Albus raised his hand to knock, but was halted by Scorpius' voice.

"Just come in," Scorpius said.

Albus shouldered open the door and found Scorpius stretched out in the clawfoot bathtub Draco had brought over from the manor before they'd moved in. The water was opaque with thick bubbles that smelled of lavender and mint, and Scorpius held a book carefully in one hand, his wand resting safely on a towel nearby.

"I'm following Dania's instructions," Scorpius said. "Be proud of me."

"I'm more disappointed that I came home to find my fiancé thoroughly disrobed and the reason has nothing to do with me."

"Selfish," Scorpius accused, shaking his head with a smirk. Albus grinned and kneeled down beside the tub, taking Scorpius' book away for safekeeping. Scorpius moved to kiss him, and the thick bubbles barely moved with the water.

"I'm supposed to stay in here for another fifteen minutes," Scorpius explained. "I planned to have done this earlier – mark it off the list – but I got distracted."

"By what?" Albus asked. He folded his arms across the edge of the tub and rested his chin atop his hands. Scorpius drew himself up to wrap his arms around his knees, resting his chin atop them and looking at Albus intently.

"Dad brought Orion over for a bit," Scorpius said. "I think he's trying to distract me and make sure I don't get too bored when you're not around."

"All those books and he thinks you'd get bored?"

Scorpius gave a weary laugh and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Albus would never admit it (and certainly not to his father), but he quite liked this bathroom, despite the ostentatious touches Draco had added. The moss green walls, the marble countertops, and the massive tub and separate shower were all far more than Albus was used to, but something about the excess was very _Slytherin_ and even more _Malfoy_ and thus comforting.

Albus grabbed the loofah Scorpius had hung on the tap and soaked it in the water. He could feel the heaviness of the added potion in the liquid. It sank into his palm, causing his skin to tingle a bit. He raised the sponge up to Scorpius' back and gently rubbed it between his shoulders, following with his free palm to rub the potion into his skin.

"That feels good," Scorpius admitted, his eyes, fluttering closed again. "The instructions on the bottle said to rub it into the skin as much as possible."

"I know," Albus assured him. "I read all the instructions Dania left. I also contacted my friend Odgerel asking her if there was anything else we could be doing to help you feel better."

Scorpius smiled, and Albus noticed his lips had lost some of the warm pink hue they usually had.

"What did she say?"

"Well, I sent a very detailed letter," Albus admitted. "It was about three pages long, and I explained everything – I trust her to be discreet, if you're worried about that –"

"I trust your judgment," Scorpius muttered sleepily as Albus continued his with his aid.

"Probably not a good idea, but thank you," Albus joked. "She agreed on everything, but wanted me to remind you that it's important to eat enough – probably more than you think is necessary – so your body can continuously heal."

"No problem there," Scorpius said. "Dad brought over half of Honeydukes today. There's an entire cabinet full of every type of chocolate imaginable."

"Well, I also brought home the ingredients for trifle if you're interested."

"I'm always interested in dessert, Albus," Scorpius reminded him. Albus smiled and dipped the loofah back down into the water, drawing up a thick layer of bubbles with his hand to smooth into Scorpius' back. The bruise on his shoulder was nearly healed and his skin was nearly clear of any major injuries.

"It would have been better if Nicholao had been there to consult with too," Albus mused. "He was brilliant with potions."

"That's the wizard that died in the dragon fire, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said. "He sounds like he was a good person."

Albus nodded solemnly. His dreams about fire and scorched flesh had long since faded, but the memory still felt very close. Instead of dwelling on it, Albus chose to focus on his good fortune to be alive and well with his fiancé, who was also alive and nearly-well.

For a long time he stayed there, smoothing the fragrant potion across Scorpius' neck, shoulders and back until the water began to lose its heat. Only then did Albus break the silence.

"You know, I'm already down on one knee so I might as well ask," Albus began. "Will you marry me today?"

Scorpius smiled. His eyes were still closed but his face was turned toward Albus, who wiped a few stray bubbles from his cheek.

"Not today, Al," Scorpius said.

* * *

**54 days**

It was a little after nine o'clock at night when Albus trudged his way through the fireplace and into his home. He was too tired to brush the soot off and too tired to care about the trail of dried mud he was leaving behind as he walked toward the kitchen, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. He'd spent most of the day in a muddy moor in the countryside corralling a group of stray Welsh Greens that had been illegally bred by a group of wizards down on their luck and then set loose when they became too much to handle. He'd written to Scorpius quickly in the only brief break he'd been afforded, telling him that it would be a late night and he wouldn't be home until around nine o'clock (if he was even that early).

Albus tossed his sweaty shirt aside, leaving himself in only his undershirt and jeans so filthy he wasn't even sure they were worth washing – they'd never feel clean again anyway. He looked over his shoulder at the muddy trail he'd left and shrugged. He'd deal with it in the morning or ask Draco if they could borrow Pike, and then whip up one of those small cakes she liked. He was always grateful when she came by to tidy things up. Besides, she (like everyone else) seemed to like looking after Scorpius…

He was just taking a breath to call for Scorpius and find out where he was and if they could just order a pizza when he saw the remnants of dinner spread across the counter. There were packages of meat and cheese from the muggle market, half a head of lettuce, and a bag of bread rolls sitting next to the stove. A tray lay across the burners with a bunch of small sandwiches – all toasted and with melted cheese. Some were cut in half and some were left whole, but they were all covered in what looked like blood.

"Damn it," Albus growled, feeling like he'd been doused in cold water (for the second time that day). His heart skipped a beat as he looked down to the white tile and saw a discarded knife and a very clear trail from the kitchen. He followed it directly to the nearby downstairs bathroom. He skidded into the doorway and pushed the door open and found Scorpius with a partially-red towel wrapped around his hand and two empty vials of blood replenishing potion laying discarded on the ground. He sat on the counter next to the sink, which had an unhealthy amount of watered-down blood splashed around the basin. His face was pale and he cringed when he saw Albus' worried expression.

"Told you I shouldn't cook," he muttered, eyeing his hand with shame.

"What happened?" Albus asked, moving quickly to his side. He peeled back the towel expecting to find a great gash across Scorpius' palm, but underneath the blood spread across his skin was a shallow cut only about seven centimeters long. With the pressure removed the wound instantly began bleeding again, and Albus pressed the towel back to it, letting Scorpius drop his other hand and taking over. He spotted a dropper bottle of dittany on the counter and grabbed the dropper.

"Looks like a massacre out there, doesn't it?" Scorpius asked with a wry smile. Albus only nodded, loading the dropper and quickly pulling back the towel to cover the wound with the dittany solution before covering it back up again. "I'd already applied some. It's just taking a few minutes to work."

"How long ago did it happen?"

"Less than ten minutes," Scorpius admitted. "I was trying to have dinner done when you got home."

Albus held the towel tight to Scorpius' hand, looking him over. His crisp blue shirt was covered in blood, as was the top of his dark trousers. There was even a smear of red across the lens of his glasses.

"Why on earth would you pick up a knife?" Albus asked. "I could have made dinner when I got home or run down to the pizza shop on the corner."

"You sounded like you'd had a rough day," Scorpius said with a shrug. "You're always taking care of me and I was just trying…"

He trailed off, looking down from Albus' gaze with a sigh. Albus leaned into his knees, holding the towel tighter to keep the bleeding at bay while the dittany and potions did their work.

"Dinner isn't important," Albus said. "Really, it isn't."

Scorpius didn't say anything but his jaw tightened. He wrapped his free fingers around the loose fabric of his shirt, twisting the hem around them until Albus saw the skin under his nails turn red. This was about more than sandwiches.

"Scorp?"

"It's fine."

"It's not," Albus said. "Not if you felt like risking your health was important."

"Not risking my health," Scorpius said. "All I did was make a sandwich. And they looked pretty good before I bled all over them."

"Yeah, you did it right up to that point," Albus said, a bit proud that Scorpius had even ventured into the kitchen. He was touched that Scorpius was trying to do something so considerate, but it hadn't been worth this.

"I just feel so useless," Scorpius muttered. He leaned back against the mirror, looking past Albus at the wall behind him. "I can't work. I can't do anything, really. I can't even stay awake for the whole afternoon – I fell asleep at the manor for three hours today. It's like Orion and I are on the same nap schedule."

"I bet your father loves that part," Albus said, trying to lighten the mood. He lessened the pressure on Scorpius' hand, hoping the bleeding had slowed. "He loves taking care of you."

"He's driving me a bit mad," Scorpius admitted. "He asks thrice an hour if I'm feeling okay, and keeps asking If there's anything I need or want – books, clothes, food."

"Is there anything you want?" Albus asked.

"To not be put in a bubble," Scorpius admitted. "To go back before all of this started."

"I can't do that. This is a time-turner-free zone."

Scorpius chuckled as Albus removed the towel and cleaned the blood away from Scorpius' hand with a clean one. A thin layer of skin had closed the wound, and some of the color as coming back to Scorpius' face already. Only then did Albus' heart start to calm down. That was entirely too close for Albus' comfort. He moved his hands to Scorpius' thighs, rubbing them gently as he maneuvered into Scorpius' lowered line of sight to meet his eyes.

"Think we need to go to St. Mungo's just to be safe?" Albus asked. "You know, they've got a chapel there – we could just –"

"No and no, Albus."

* * *

**51 days**

It was a good morning, Scorpius thought. It was a _great_ morning. It was sunny, they'd slept in, and Albus didn't have to be at work for another hour. He _had_ slept well and _hadn't_ woken up feeling groggy and disoriented as he had the last few days – an event that Albus seemed fully willing to take advantage of. Before he could fully shake off the warm feeling of waking without an alarm, Albus had him pressed into the pillows, his hands under Scorpius' shirt and his lips moving relentlessly over his throat.

"That's nice," Scorpius whispered, biting at Albus' ear briefly when the opportunity presented itself. His stomach grumbled audibly but he chose to ignore it – there wasn't a single meal that could possibly be better than this – and he tugged at Albus' t-shirt, willing it to disappear. Albus obliged quickly, yanking it off and tossing it away before continuing his ruthless-but-careful assault.

"This is better than nice," Scorpius amended now that there was more skin available to him. "This is _great_. This is –"

Albus cut him off with a searing kiss that Scorpius felt all the way down to his toes (surely that would bruise and he didn't care a bit). He tried and failed to bite back a squeak of approval, and Albus chuckled against his lips, moving one hand down to Scorpius' hip before kissing a trail back down Scorpius' throat to his collarbone.

"Are you sure you have to go to work?" Scorpius whined, raking a hand through Albus' dark hair. "Because we could do this all day."

"I don't want to miss too much work without a really good reason," Albus mumbled against Scorpius' skin.

"We can come up with a really good reason," Scorpius said. "Though I think this counts as a _really_ good reason."

"You know what would be a really good reason?" Albus asked. He grinned up at Scorpius who pressed his lips into a hard line.

"What?"

"We could get married."

Albus folded his hands across Scorpius' chest, falling still and smiling up at him with feigned expectation, his eyes wide and bright.

"I walked into that, didn't I?" Scorpius asked. Albus gave a slight nod, and Scorpius sighed, throwing his head back against the pillows with a faint smile. He'd asked every day for the last nine days, and though Scorpius knew it was a game, he wondered how long his resistance could last against Albus' Potter-determination and vivid green eyes.

"Not today, Albus," Scorpius said. He tried to pull Albus back up to kiss him and resume their snogging (and hopefully more), but Albus stayed perfectly still.

"Not today?"

"Not today," Scorpius confirmed. Albus sighed and bowed his head against Scorpius' chest for a moment before sliding away to the edge of the bed. Scorpius grappled at him blindly as he went, but it was too late – Albus' feet were already on the floor and he was bending down to retrieve his discarded shirt.

"What?"

"Yeah – I have about forty-five minutes left to leave for work," Albus said, glancing at the clock. Scorpius scrambled for his glasses on the nightstand so he could see clearly and shoved them onto his face. "I've got to have breakfast and get dressed."

"What? But we were –"

"I would have had time if I were taking the day off," Albus shrugged. Scorpius gaped at him as he grinned and folded his arms. Albus knew _exactly_ what he was doing. "But as it is, I do need to go… be responsible."

Scorpius continued staring at him, agape, as he walked over toward the door, seemingly pleased with himself and his new brand of persuasive torture. With his hand on the door, he turned and looked at Scorpius, still tangled in the sheets. Albus winked and slipped through the threshold to head downstairs, humming as he went.

"Albus?" Scorpius called. He received no response, save for Zar taking advantage of the open door and sauntering in. He leaped on the bed beside Scorpius who listened closely for Albus to come back upstairs, but instead heard the beginnings of breakfast – the frying pan being pulled down from the rack, and the bacon being taken from the refrigerator.

Scorpius wanted very much to scream Albus' name until he was hoarse and Albus came back upstairs, and he tried selfishly to think of ways to leverage his illness into getting what he wanted, but then he realized he had just turned down _nine_ consecutive proposals, lighthearted as they may have been, and Albus had every right to walk away from him, smirking as he went.

* * *

**50 days**

In the time since Scorpius had been home, Albus had barely sacrificed a minute with him that wasn't for work. However, as the Potter home descended into well-mannered chaos, he found himself needing a minute alone. Besides – he _wanted_ Scorpius and Lily to have fun playing chess. They had always been friendly, and Albus wanted them to be friendly-family, so he didn't want to get in the way when Lily pulled out her set and challenged Scorpius to a match. She was one of the few people he could potentially win against anyway.

So Albus settled into his favorite spot on the front porch swing with a bottle of Butterbeer and an intent to sit in complete silence for at least ten minutes. He needed it. He almost made it, too, and had zoned out, staring out across the grassy field outside the house that led to the forest. The stars were bright and the air was balmy, and Albus leaned back, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet.

"Al?"

Albus jumped at the sound of his name and turned to see James peeking out the door. Last Albus had seen he was sitting at the table with their father, going over some of his career options from his present position while indulging in a piece of cake from Grandma Molly's house.

"Hey," Albus greeted. He turned his attention back to the dark field, hoping James didn't want anything. Maybe he was just checking to make sure Albus was alive or was looking for something else and would retreat in a second and go back to the laughter inside.

Albus had no such luck. James closed the door behind himself and joined Albus on the swing, jerking it into motion as he sat down. Albus eyed him suspiciously but said nothing and just took another sip of his drink.

"So how are you?"

Albus quirked an eyebrow at him. "I'm good. Just… you know. Hanging out here where it's quiet."

"Yeah, but I mean…" James trailed off, looking for the right word. "With _everything_."

Albus sighed, picking at the label on the Butterbeer bottle and peeling back the foil. "It's as good as it's going to be, I guess."

"Scorpius looks like he's feeling better," James said with a bit of optimism.

"Only because I've got his medicine timed to the minute and I'm making him eat half his body weight in pancakes and chicken every day."

"Well, he's lucky he's got you to take care of him," James said earnestly. "You've always been really good at that stuff."

"Have I?"

"You're a really good cook," James said. "And you're really good at potions."

Albus stared at him, confused. James was never this complimentary of him.

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you," James said. "For several days – I just haven't seen you. I guess you've been busy."

"Well, yeah," Albus said, gesturing to the window behind them where Scorpius could be seen yelping in delight as his knight took Lily's rook.

"Makes sense," James conceded. "Anyway – I owe you an apology."

Those were the last words Albus had expected James to say.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm really sorry, Albus," James said, turning and facing Albus. "I'm sorry for a lot of things – I can't possibly list them all, but… well, I think you know what I’m talking about."

Albus had an inkling of what James was trying to say, but couldn't quite convince himself to believe that James was sorry for all the things he'd done. Albus suspected he'd just broken something in his old bedroom while rummaging around for a shirt or something and assumed Albus knew about it.

"I should have never abandoned you the way I did at Hogwarts," James began. "That was wrong, and I hope you can chalk some of that up to teenage selfishness."

"I've got some experience with that," Albus admitted. This seemed to encourage James because he continued quickly, as if he'd lose momentum if he paused.

"And I'm sorry I haven't spent more time with you – that we drifted apart. It just happened so slowly and then I didn't know what to do so I did _nothing._ Besides – once you got to Hogwarts you didn't need me much. You had Scorpius."

Albus looked through the window again. Scorpius was staring at the chess board desolately while Lily smirked with pride.

"I'm just really sorry, Albus," James said again. "And all the teasing – what I saw as teasing – I realize now was more like bullying. I didn't understand when I was younger. I'm your big brother. You should have been able to come to me the entire time you were at Hogwarts. I should have been there when the other students were teasing you, and I should have been one of the first people you came out to. Instead, I was…"

He stopped again to find the word, looking up thoughtfully. Albus had plenty of adjectives.

"A jerk?" Albus supplied. "An ass. An idiot. A bully. Neglectful. Rude. Mean –"

"All of those," James said solemnly. "Scorpius and I talked about this while we were gone – and I'm sorry for that too, even though going with him turned out to be the right choice – and I've apologized to him profusely."

Albus nodded. Scorpius had mentioned this a few days ago, but hadn't offered many details – only that they had talked and were on good terms. Albus suspected it felt rather private and hadn't pressed the matter (mostly because he was still a bit sore about being left behind, whether he liked it or not).

"So… I don't know if you can forgive me or not, and I understand if you can't. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I ignored you over the years. I've wanted to tell you that for a long time, but I just didn't know where to start."

James plucked at the fringe on the front of the bench cushion and Albus studied him. James sat up straight – James' posture had always been impeccable, and it made him seem confident in any context. It made it easy for him to seem more than human when he was never slumped over, as if nothing had ever bent or broken him, but as he sat there, nervously picking at the strings and eyeing Albus with something like hope and longing, Albus _couldn't_ be mad at him. He knew that look. It was the same one their dad had given Albus when he said something he didn't mean. It was the same look Albus had when he knew he'd screwed up and accidentally hurt Scorpius' feelings. It was the way Ginny looked when she accidentally stepped on a cat, and it was the sheepish expression Lily had when she realized someone really didn't like their birthday gift.

Albus sighed to himself. He felt his shoulders drop – he didn't even know when tension had tightened them. He loved his brother, despite having been irritated, angry and largely indifferent to him for years upon years, but with James trying to apologize and looking, in some part, _vulnerable_ , Albus couldn't deny the truth. _Damn it_.

Albus couldn't give James the tearful forgiveness he probably wanted. That kind of soppiness was reserved for Scorpius and Scorpius alone and he'd used up a great deal of his reserves lately, so he settled instead on –

"That seems like a pretty good place to start."

James' expression brightened with relief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I think so."

A warm breeze ruffled both their hair, making them each look more untidy than they already did, and Albus and James exchanged their first genuine smiles in ages.

"You and Scorpius are pretty ace blokes," James said. "You know, for Slytherins."

"Don't push it James," Albus laughed. "We're not there yet."

James grinned at him for a moment, content to have received some form of forgiveness. Albus glanced inside just in time to see Lily's queen take out Scorpius' king. Scorpius smiled in resignation and shook her hand – all prim and proper and entirely Malfoy. Albus was happy to see him looking and acting nearly normal until he saw Ainsley approach Scorpius while Lily was distracted. She crouched beside him and drew something from her purse. Scorpius' smile faded and he nodded, taking the vial from her hands and uncorking it.

Albus rested his head against the back of the bench and looked back at James, who was watching him with concern. Clearly, Albus' expression had betrayed him.

"Are you really okay?" James asked.

Albus swallowed. If they were going to be open with one another and act like brothers, Albus supposed now was as good a place as any to start.

"It's difficult," Albus admitted. "I'm trying to keep him happy – trying to keep him laughing and comfortable like things are somewhat normal – but it's difficult. Every time he sneezes or shivers I panic."

He didn't know how to describe the pain he felt in his chest when he thought about it – that Scorpius _wasn't_ okay and that Ainsley was doing so much better. He wanted to be grateful that she was and that James, at least, wasn't waking every hour to check and make sure his significant other was sleeping well and didn't have a chronic nosebleed. Instead, Albus unconsciously raised his hand to his chest, resting it right over his heart. James followed it and nodded in understanding.

"I know it's not the same," James said. "She goes to work. We went flying the other day, and she sleeps through the night –"

"How'd you know he had trouble with that?"

"We shared hotel rooms," James reminded him. "It's hard not to notice a person tossing and turning all night. I thought he was just a restless sleeper."

Albus shrugged. "He is. I mean, he didn't used to be, before Delphi and all and then the kidnapping –" Albus choked on the memory. "I think this is just dragging up a lot. But we both have nightmares sometimes on the best of days."

James shook his head. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Albus said.

Silence settled over them, and for a quiet moment Albus fully appreciated that, for once in their lives, he and James were having a shared experience. It didn't lessen the weight, but for a moment Albus felt a little less isolated.

After a few minutes, the door blew open from the inside. Both Albus and James jumped, both reaching towards their pockets and their wands until they realized it was Ginny, stepping outside in a fury. Her face was flushed and her eyes were wide and furious. Even if Albus hadn't noticed the firewhiskey glass in her hand, he would have known she was nearly drunk immediately.

"James!"

"Mum!"

"Come inside this instant. I need you to settle something for me."

"He can't save you!" Ainsley yelled from inside.

Albus was surprised to hear Draco call after her. "Your reasons aren't strong enough and your evidence is weak!"

Ginny growled back inside and Albus thought she'd never looked more like Uncle Charlie.

"James, please come help me explain to these _peasants-_ " she directed the insult back inside, "why Gryffindor is clearly the best house."

"He can't do that, mum," Albus said. "Slytherin is clearly the best house."

Ginny pointed at him. "You hold your tongue."

Albus grinned deviously. If Ginny was nearly drunk then Harry was likely fully inebriated along with Ron and Hermione. Supporting Slytherin would be a piece of cake. And speaking of cake – surely dessert was on the table.

"Come on, Al," James said, standing. Albus grasped his hand and let James pull him to his feet and steady him. "Let's go fight with the adults."

Albus allowed himself a moment of normalcy as they walked back inside and clapped James on the back, letting James throw his arm around his shoulders. For the moment, he was on good terms with his siblings, his family was all in good health, and Scorpius looked happy and was smiling. It needed to be enough.

When they passed Ginny as they entered the dining room, she looked surprised. As they took their seats at the elongated dining room table, Albus heard Harry address Ginny as he joined her in the doorway.

"Why the shock?" he asked. His words sounded loose and unrefined. Albus had been right and he was certain his parents didn't realize he could hear them. Albus felt Scorpius' arms slide around his shoulders from behind and happily received a peck on the cheek as he took Scorpius' hands, squeezing them lightly before reaching for the last slice of cake.

"I just found James and Albus talking outside. By themselves.  Of their own volition."

"And?"

"Harry, I think I just witnessed a miracle."

* * *

**42 days**

The curse wasn't going to kill Scorpius – boredom was.

He learned quickly that cabin fever was a terrible thing while he spent days cooped up inside reading and napping. When he just couldn't read anymore and his father and Albus were both unavailable, he played the piano for hours on end, flipping through old music books and playing the simple songs he'd learned as a child. After a few days he was back in the habit, but found that his fingertips bruised easily and his hands became sore – a fact he decided to withhold from Albus, lest he break their new and tentative tradition of Scorpius playing in the kitchen-adjacent sitting room while Albus made dinner. 

He waited for Albus one evening, practicing Clair de Lune with Zar stretched out on the floor beside the couch where Orion lay sleeping in his bassinet. He'd taken him late in the afternoon when Dania had come back from work and insisted she and Draco go out for dinner, but his motives had been selfish. Scorpius just wanted to feel useful – like he was doing _something_ productive. Besides, Orion was a reliable alarm clock and would surely wake him if he dozed off.

Scorpius watched the rise and fall of his baby brother's tiny chest from across the room, his fingers moving across the keys carefully and deliberately. He'd played the piece five times trying to get it right and it had consumed most of his afternoon and was pleased to find Orion seemed to enjoy it as much as he did.

A rush of wind came from the nearby fireplace and Scorpius stopped playing, stretching his fingers and testing his joints carefully until Albus stumbled out. He looked like he'd had a calm day – no bandages or torn clothes. He was smiling and Scorpius was just about to tell him how happy he was to have him home when Orion, disturbed by Albus' arrival, started crying.

"No, no," Albus said calmly, foregoing his normal greeting in favor of scooping Orion up from his bassinet and cradling him. "We'll have none of that."

Scorpius folded his hands in his lap and watched as Albus hoisted the baby up to his shoulder, patting him on the back and swaying with him until he calmed down. Scorpius was always impressed with how quickly Orion calmed down for Albus, but he supposed Albus had years of practice in calming down Malfoy boys.

"I just fed and changed him. He fell asleep maybe twenty minutes ago."

Albus cooed at Orion as he calmed down against Albus' shoulder, his tiny hands grasping at the rumpled collar of Albus' shirt.

"Don't tell your dad, but I think Orion is my second favorite Malfoy," Albus said with a lopsided smirk.

"Yeah?" Scorpius asked, drawing his leg up onto the bench. "Who's your favorite?"

"Ainsley, obviously."

Scorpius chuckled and turned back to the keys, beginning to play again as Albus moved closer. He bent down and kissed Scorpius' cheek before standing back up and swaying with Orion, who grabbed at his clothes and face with tiny fists. Albus' movements were a bit lopsided – they always were toward the end of the day – but Orion didn't seem to mind one bit.

Scorpius watched them for a minute before turning back to the music sheets propped up against the piano. He really didn't need them, but it was comforting to have the notes in front of him after so many years of not playing regularly. He stared at them, his vision going out of focus. Albus' voice as he talked to Orion faded pleasantly into the background. These were the sounds he wanted for the rest of his life – piano music and Albus playing with a child, talking quietly about what they'd have for dinner. He wanted the smell of books and paper around him and the warm feeling he got from having seen his father that day. He wanted all of these things so bad that he ached, but not in the same way his hands and his body ached these days. It was a different kind of pain.

"Scorp? _Scorpius_?"

Scorpius jumped and looked up at Albus, who was standing over him. His green eyes were full of concern as he shifted Orion to his hip, a crease forming between his brows.

"What did you say?" Scorpius asked.

"Rose owled earlier. She might stop by after dinner," Albus repeated. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just drifted off for a second, I guess."

"What's up?" he asked. He nudged Scorpius, who obliged quickly and made room for him, and Albus settled onto the bench, pressed into Scorpius' side. Orion, who seemed very content with his head resting on Albus' shoulder, made a weak grab for Scorpius' hair and tugged at it lightly before deciding it was too much trouble and went back to chewing on Albus' collar.

"I'm just disoriented is all," Scorpius admitted. "Sleeping so much and not working. Everything feels strange and different. I haven't felt like this disoriented since… well, since mum died."

"It's temporary," Albus reminded him, his expression soft and amiable. He'd obviously neglected to shave this morning – something Albus rarely forgot - and had a healthy dusting of stubble along his jaw. "In a few weeks you'll be able to take that potion and you can get on with things."

"Maybe I could teach," Scorpius said. "Bet I'd be good at it by the time this one goes to Hogwarts. I'd be better than Binns at any rate."

Scorpius rubbed Orion's back and watched his brother's pale eyelashes flutter as he closed his eyes. Though he tried not to think it, Scorpius knew that if his time came he would be grateful with his dying breath that his father had Orion.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Albus asked. Scorpius thought about it for a moment, resting his head on the small, unclaimed bit of Albus' shoulder next to Orion.

"Just keep being here," Scorpius requested. "Just like this."

Albus laced his fingers with Scorpius' and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Scorpius ignored the small twinge of pain and held on tight.

"Always."

* * *

Albus had been expecting Rose to stumble from the fireplace at any minute, so when the doorbell rang he nearly jumped out of his skin. He and Scorpius had just finished dinner and were settling in to read a chapter of _Vipertooth: The Memoir of Harvey Ridgebit_ (Albus had insisted on something exciting after drudging through _Great Expectations_ ) when he was forced to disentangle himself from Scorpius with great reluctance.

He opened the door to find Rose dressed in a light summer dress with a bakery box in hand.

"I brought cookies," she announced.

Scorpius was quick to reply, calling across the house.

"Cookies? Albus, why doesn't she come over more often?"

Albus grinned and ushered his cousin in. Quidditch had made her strong and Rose carried herself with confidence instead of arrogance these days – something Albus greatly preferred to her attitude at Hogwarts. She greeted Scorpius, fended off Zar, and took several moments to admire Orion while Albus poured three glasses of milk before they settled in to chat. Albus and Scorpius took their usual places on the sofa while Rose curled up in a nearby armchair. Orion dozed quietly in his bassinet, protected from their conversation by a noise filtering charm Dania had taught Scorpius a few weeks prior.

"I can't stay long," Rose said. "I'm dead tired and I've got a practice at five o'clock in the morning."

Scorpius winced. "This is why I didn't join professional Quidditch," he said, grabbing a cookie. "That, and my complete lack of talent."

"The games are fun," Rose said, "and I do quite like my teammates but the media always being in my business is a bit annoying. They're quite concerned with who I'm dating all the time."

Albus smirked. "Weren't you spotted out with one of the ministry's top legal officials?"

Rose scoffed. "I ran into him in Diagon Alley and we grabbed a drink," she explained.

"And the week before you were dating that bloke from the Cannons?"

"That one was true," Rose said. "I did go out with Donovan."

"He's pretty cute," Scorpius said through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. Albus admired his enthusiasm. "You could do worse."

"He's a terrible kisser," Rose said.

"But he looks good in his uniform," Scorpius defended. Before Albus could take offense, he reached out and patted his knee gently. "Not as good as you looked in yours, of course."

Albus smirked and leaned back against the cushions and propped his feet up on the coffee table, biting down a small wince as he stretched out. "I haven't been paying attention to the gossip column much, but I do read the sports pages. You've been on fire out there. I can't imagine you'd have much trouble finding a lawyer or healer or fellow player to date."

"That's what I wanted," she complained. "But I just don't actually _like_ any of them."

"Rose needs someone _sophisticated_ , Albus," Scorpius teased. "She gets to be picky."

"Right," she agreed. "Besides, Al – not all of us have been married since childhood."

Scorpius groaned and busied himself with another cookie, curling up against the arm of the couch opposite Albus.

"We're not married," Albus grumbled. "Not for my lack of trying."

Rose looked between them, bemused. "Pardon?"

"He keeps asking me to marry him," Scorpius explained quickly, lest Albus launch into a more dramatic account, which he'd immediately begun preparing. "And I won't until we know whether or not the curse cure will work."

"I'm not sure if that's awful or adorable," Rose said.

"It's both," Albus confirmed. He exchanged a small smile with Scorpius.

Rose looked at Scorpius and Albus knew she was looking for signs of his illness. She didn't mean it to be rude – it was a natural reaction, but Scorpius squirmed a bit in discomfort. Albus lay his hand against his ankle.

"Are you feeling okay?" Rose asked.

"A bit tired," Scorpius conceded. "But I'm okay."

Rose didn't look convinced. Albus wondered if Aunt Hermione had sent her over to check on them and make sure they were getting on alright.

"Uncle Harry told mum everything," Rose explained. "I'm really sorry. And I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Scorpius said. "Besides, it sounds like you've been busy if the paper is to be believed – and I've read all of them since I've been back. You're quite the celebrity."

"Indeed," Albus agreed, raising his milk glass to her in a toast. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Aunt Ginny warned me that this would happen," Rose said. "But I didn't believe it would be _this_ difficult to date in this environment."

"Are you at least enjoying the run up to the Britain Finals?" Scorpius asked. Rose beamed at him, either because Scorpius had been paying attention or because she was pleased to talk about her actual job instead of all the societal pressures that came with it. Albus was just happy to see Scorpius laughing, discussing something other than curses and potions or sitting quietly. Albus was so often at a loss now, wondering how to help or make him smile, that he'd take all the help he could get.

* * *

Rose left early by anyone's standards, but Scorpius already felt sleep pulling at him. He was half asleep when Albus returned from a quick Floo trip to the manor to drop Orion off, but forced himself to be alert when Albus came back over and fell back onto the sofa near Scorpius' feet, tugging the blanket back into place around his toes.

"Your dad said thank you," Albus said. "They looked quite pleased. I guess they went into London for dinner."

"It's been a long time since they'd been able to," Scorpius said. "It was good seeing Rose."

"I'm glad she's doing well," Albus said, resting his arm on the back of the couch and turning to look at Scorpius. He propped his head up on his hand, smiling affectionately as he looked at Scorpius, who was too tired to even fidget with the blanket's fringe.

When Albus had been staring just a bit too long, Scorpius quirked a brow at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Albus said, shaking his head. "I'm just grateful I don't have to deal with all that dating nonsense."

"We did skip that part, didn't we?"

"You don't regret that, do you?" Albus asked, his free hand falling to Scorpius' knee.

"Of course not," Scorpius assured him. He swallowed hard, entirely indecisive. There were so many conversations he didn't want to have now – many of them with Albus and his father – and Albus had just walked into one of them. Scorpius wasn't sure he'd have another opportunity to discuss it, and chose to swallow down his discomfort so he could maybe sleep a bit easier. "But what if you did have to someday?"

Albus' brow furrowed instantly. "I don't follow."

"What if you had to, Albus?" Scorpius asked. Albus looked more baffled and Scorpius sighed, rubbing his face. "I'm just trying to be realistic."

Albus' confusion fell into stern defiance in record time. He shook his head. "We are not discussing whether or not I'll date if you die."

"Albus, please –"

"No."

"Albus," Scorpius said, raising his voice. Albus moved to withdraw his hand. Scorpius reached forward quickly and caught it, holding it tight. He was determined to say his piece the same way he'd been determined to have his father agree to burying him next to Astoria, should the occasion arise. Draco had agreed quickly in an effort to end the conversation, and Scorpius hoped Albus would do the same.

"Please," he pleaded, looking straight into Albus' eyes. Albus looked away quickly, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the window. The curtains were drawn, but every few moments a car's headlights would filter through the fabric, casting a soft blue glow around the room.

He watched Albus' jaw tighten. "I knew you'd do this eventually," he admitted, and to Scorpius' surprise, he laughed. "I've been dreading it really."

"Odd. That's exactly what my father said when I handed him my will."

Albus winced. Scorpius held his hand tighter.

"Listen, I know I'm not that bad off yet," Scorpius said. "But there's a reason the healers are treating me differently than Ainsley. We can't follow the blueprint left by my mother's care. It doesn't apply to me. I just need to know that certain things are in place and that the people I love know certain things."

"You're twenty years old," Albus reminded him.

"It doesn't change anything."

"Is this the part where you tell me you don't want me to live alone?" Albus asked. His ire wasn't directed at Scorpius, but it was present all the same as he glared at their hands. "Where you tell me that you want me to live my life and move on or some other soppy rubbish?"

"Of course not," Scorpius said as if it were the most preposterous idea he'd ever heard. "This is when I tell you I want you to become a monk immediately upon my passing and spend the rest of your days celibate while you mourn my untimely passing."

Scorpius thought he saw the corners of Albus' mouth twitch, but it could have been a trick of the light.

"Of course I want you to move on," Scorpius said. He tugged at Albus' arm until he looked up from under his messy hair. "Promise me that you will?"

"I shan't."

" _Albus_."

Albus met his eyes and his expression was so mournful and broken that Scorpius nearly had to look away. He had to summon what small amount of bravery he had to hold his gaze.

 _There's a reason I wasn't a Gryffindor_ , he mused. _Merlin, this is hard_.

"I'll haunt you if you don't," Scorpius warned. "I won't be a pleasant ghost, Albus. And believe me, I don't like the thought of you with someone else. I grew up an only child and what's mine has always been only mine."

"Selfish Malfoys," Albus muttered.

"Difficult Potters," Scorpius countered.

At that, Albus' shoulders sagged and he nodded, his eyes closed as if he couldn't look at Scorpius while agreeing. "Fine. If it makes you feel better, I promise."

"Good," Scorpius said, though it didn't feel good at all. He released Albus' hand and leaned back against the arm, more exhausted than before.

"It's not good," Albus said. He crawled forward, pushing himself between Scorpius' side and the back of the sofa until he was stretched out along his body with his head resting over Scorpius' heart. Scorpius held onto him gently as Albus muttered into his chest. "We're too young for this, Scorp."

"We've been too young for a lot of things," Scorpius reminded him. "At this point, I've just stopped keeping track."

* * *

**35 days**

An early morning and a day spent wrangling a particularly irksome Graphorn did not make for a happy Albus. He'd left a half-awake Scorpius at the crack of dawn with the intent to have an easy day, only to find his hopes dashed immediately upon entering.

When he came home, he was confused when Zar leaped at him and ran to the back door, but Albus complied and let the dog out. Zar was never that enthusiastic to go out, but he supposed there were exceptions to everyone's routines, dogs included.

"Scorpius?" Albus called down the hall. He checked the rooms downstairs and found the kitchen empty and the sitting room cold. He checked the television room and the never-used reading room before heading upstairs. Surely Scorpius was in the library, so wrapped up in a story that he'd forgotten to let Zar out and hadn't noticed Albus calling for him.

"Scorp?"

Albus nudged the library door open, but it too was empty and the lanterns were cold.

He checked the bathroom before deciding Scorpius must have gone to the manor to see his father and neglected to leave a note. Scorpius was getting more forgetful these days after all – excessive sleep and depression seemed to have that effect on him. He decided to change from his sweaty clothes before joining them and was halfway out of his shirt when he opened the bedroom door and saw a Scorpius-sized lump in the bed.

Poorly-timed naps were becoming more common, so Albus supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. He sighed, tugged the hem of his shirt back down, and walked over to the side of the bed. He took a moment to admire his sleeping fiancé for a moment – the fine cut of his jaw and his light hair splayed across the pillow – before bending down and nudging Scorpius' shoulder gently.

"Scorp?"

Scorpius grumbled and batted him away, his hand grazing the side of Albus' face.

"Scorp, come on."

"Did you forget something?" Scorpius mumbled into his pillow.

"What?"

"You must have forgotten something," he continued, rolling on his back. The indentations from the rumpled pillow case were deep along the side of his face.  "Back so quickly. But you had breakfast, right?"

Albus perched on the edge of the bed, trying to stitch together what Scorpius had said. As Scorpius rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groaning and stretching under the covers, Albus eyed him warily.

"Scorpius, did you get out of bed today?"

"Hmm?"

"What time do you think it is?"

"I don't know," he grumbled, irritable at being asked questions in this state. "Nine o'clock? Maybe ten?"

"It's six," Albus said, suddenly quite frightened and worried. "It's six o'clock in the evening."

Scorpius looked at him in disbelief, his face contorted in sleepy confusion.

"Nuh uh."

"Yes. You've been asleep all day. That's why Zar was itching to get out," Albus realized.

"A-all day?" Scorpius asked, his eyes widening with the realization. "And I went to bed early last night, so that's –"

"Nearly twenty hours straight," Albus estimated. Scorpius' eyes widened in alarm, and Albus took a deep breath to steady himself before standing up and seizing Scorpius hand.

"Up," Albus instructed, tugging gently until Scorpius disentangled himself from the sheets. The same lines from the folded fabric were present down his legs and arms, and Albus swallowed hard at the sight of them. He clearly hadn't been moving much in his sleep.

Scorpius stumbled and Albus quickly righted him while he shook his leg, muttering about pins and needles in his foot.

"I'm not surprised," Albus said. "It doesn't look like you'd moved for hours."

Scorpius looked even more concerned at that and eyed the bed. "I barely even remember you leaving this morning," he admitted. "It feels like ten minutes ago."

"You need to eat," Albus said, searching for all the things he could do to right the situation. "And you need to take your potions. And fresh air – that'll help, so we'll go out back –"

"Albus," Scorpius interrupted shakily. He looked down at Albus, his hair tousled and his face puffy from prolonged inertia. Albus saw a fear in his eyes that was becoming all too common, though he didn't need that to understand that this wasn't good at all.

"I know," Albus said quickly, so that Scorpius didn't feel he needed to explain. Losing an entire day to sleep was not only so unlike Scorpius that it was terrifying, it was also not a positive sign. "It's okay, we'll get this sorted."

He left Scorpius' side only to seize his silk bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door, and was appalled to see Scorpius yawning when Albus helped him into the sleeves. Albus wrapped it around him and tied it securely, unable to stifle his need to do every small thing he could to help, even if it was pointless.

Even more alarming was Scorpius' next request.

"Don't tell my dad."

Albus' fingers faltered over the smooth tie as he tugged it into place. He said nothing, hoping his agreement was implied, but Scorpius placed his hands heavily on Albus' shoulders and stooped slightly into his line of sight.

"Don't tell him. It worried him the most when mum started doing that."

Albus bit down on his tongue. He felt both frantic and blank all at once, and he nodded, agreeing without his usual resistance.

"I won't tell him."

Scorpius sighed in relief as his stomach gave a nasty, loud grumble. If he'd been sleeping for nearly twenty hours, then he hadn't eaten for over twenty-two – not a good plan for someone battling a curse and the harsh treatments keeping it at bay.

"Dinner," Albus commanded, ushering Scorpius from the room. "You can have some biscuits while I make you something."

Dinner wasn't going to help, but it was something Albus could do – a way to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied, and for the moment that was all he could ask for.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Albus let Scorpius go back to sleep, but found that he couldn't rest himself. He'd sent an owl to Lily asking her to bring some extra potions ingredients from their parent's garden and was hoping she'd show up soon so he could prepare a pepperup potion for himself in the morning, as he wasn't anticipating a restful night, but he was also hoping for a bit of comfort from his sister.

It wasn't Lily who stepped out of the fireplace. Albus looked up from the kitchen counter where he was flipping idly through a cookbook, marking recipes he thought Scorpius might like with sticky notes and tapping his toes incessantly against the tile and saw Harry emerging from the Floo with a basket in his arms.

"Ah, you're still up!" Harry said brightly. His glasses were smudged, his hair was nearly as messy as Albus', and his robes smelled like sugar and potions smoke. He set the basket down on the counter across from his son and grinned. Clearly, he'd had the day off.

"Lily was tired and she told me what you said you needed, so I figured you needed pepperup potion," Harry explained. "I brewed it for you – thought I'd save you the time, and while it simmered I made brownies."

"That's nice of you, dad," Albus said, trying to mask his disappointment at Lily's absence with a forced smile. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Harry wasn't buying it. His cheerful expression faded and he eyed Albus suspiciously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Albus said too quickly. "Nothing more than usual."

Harry folded his arms, searching Albus' face for some indicator of what was going on, and Albus felt like he was being wordlessly interrogated. Perhaps that was how Harry got his way with those he arrested. He sighed and gave up before Harry even started questioning.

"I left for work today and Scorpius was still half-asleep," he explained, rubbing his face and leaning into the counter. "He slept all day and was still out cold when I got here."

"That's…"

"It's not good," Albus supplied. "It's very not good. It's very, very bad."

Harry walked around the counter to where Albus stood, and Albus immediately felt his shoulders tighten. He tensed up, wrapping his arms around his middle and looking down at his feet.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Albus shook his head.

"No. You brought the pepperup potion – that's all I needed, really."

"That's not what I meant."

Albus looked over at Harry and saw his father's concerned expression. Though Harry had aged well (better than Ron, at any rate), the lines on his face became far more pronounced when he was worried. Albus wondered if it was an indicator of what he'd look like in twenty years. He wondered too if Scorpius would be alive to remind him how much he looked like his father and to mock him as gray hair started cropping up along his temples.

The thought of not having his best friend there to tease him as he aged was unbearable and Albus looked away from his father's searching gaze, wishing all at once that he was alone and that his father would stay until he felt better. He wasn't certain which he wanted more.

"D'you want me to go get your mum?" Harry asked, gesturing to the fireplace. "She's still awake."

Albus shook his head.

"Lily? James?"

"No, dad," Albus said, exasperated.

"Do you want me to go?"

Albus shook his head again, blinking back entirely unwelcome tears, hoping his father didn't notice. The last thing he wanted to do was cry, but he supposed he'd been pushing this down for days and days.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do if he dies, dad," Albus whispered. "We've been looking after one another for so long."

Harry stepped closer, and Albus saw his black shoes come into his line of sight. He felt his father's hand come to rest on his back – tentative and testing as Albus shifted his weight back and forth, uncomfortable and struggling to keep himself together.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Harry said in the same soothing tone he'd used when Albus was a child and had been frightened by something. It was a testament to his vulnerability that Albus found it soothing instead of condescending.

"It might, though," Albus said. "He's so sick, dad. It's so much worse than Ainsley, and knowing why doesn't make it easier."

"No, I'm sure it doesn't," Harry said. Albus heard him swallow and Harry paused, obviously thinking something over, before continuing. "When I was fifteen I made a really big mistake – one that isn't written about in Rita Skeeter's _Mistakes and Misdeeds of Harry Potter_."

Albus scoffed at the memory. He'd been ten when that particular volume had hit shelves and the Potters had spent a week holed up in their house to avoid aggressive reporters.

"I was pretty broken up about Sirius' death," Harry said. "Obviously. And so much had happened surrounding his death that it was confusing and horrible and truthfully I was entirely too ill-equipped to handle it at fifteen with a bit of…" Harry stopped himself for a moment. "Well, with a bit of Voldemort's soul rattling around in my brain."

"That sounds horrible," Albus said, wondering where his father was going with this.

"Anyway – Sirius dying was awful. He was the closest thing I'd ever known to a father. But the thing that made it worse came a few days later when I was packing up my things. Sirius had given me one of those two-way mirrors – like the ones you lot had at Hogwarts – so we could communicate. I'd never unwrapped it, and when I did I realized I could have just used that mirror to find out if he was safe. When I found out I hadn't done everything I could have to save him, it made the pain twice as bad and it haunts me to this day."

Albus looked up at Harry, inquisitive and aware that his father could see the unshed tears in his eyes.

"What I'm saying is that if the worst does happen – and Dumbledore help us, I hope it doesn't – at the very least you will know you and everyone who loves you did _everything_ they could. Every avenue was explored, every option considered. I know that doesn't sound like much now, but if the cure doesn't work I can assure you, it will matter a great deal."

"It might matter someday," Albus said shakily, "but right now I'm quite scared. I can barely think."

Harry sighed and drew Albus into a warm hug – the kind that made Albus grateful he was still shorter than his dad, because it made him feel safe and protected, if only for a few moments.

"I know you are," Harry said. "I wish I could make this all go away for you – for both of you."

"Not even the Great Harry Potter can do that," Albus muttered against his father's shoulder. "I keep asking him to marry me and it's turned into a bit of a joke, but I'm not sure how I'd feel if he… and we weren't…" Albus stumbled over the words.

"I know," Harry said. Albus didn't feel like he needed to keep explaining and he fell silent. There had been a time a few years ago when Albus would have shaken off his father's attempts at any comfort and rolled his eyes at his efforts to relate, but now Albus was grateful to just be understood in a moment where he felt so truly and horribly lost.

* * *

**32 days**

_Food I can't hurt myself making_

  1. _Toast (stay back from the heat)_
  2. _~~Pancakes (use magic to manage spatula~~_ _) Disaster_
  3. _Bagels (pre-cut from the deli down the street)_
  4. _~~Eggs (same as pancakes~~_ _) Absolute mess_
  5. _Sandwiches (leave them whole)_
  6. _~~Soup (from a can)~~_ _cans have sharp edges. Will not forget again._
  7. _Pizza +44 20 7359 7400_



Scorpius eyed his list warily early on the morning of Albus' birthday. His options were severely limited, but he was determined to try anyway. He didn't trust himself to cook using magic – his motor skills with charms were severely lacking and his few attempts had taken ages to clean up – so he used the muggle toaster to warm the bagels, grabbed them carefully with tongs to avoid burns, spread cream cheese on them with the bluntest butter knife he could find, and made two mugs of tea. He climbed the stairs carefully with a tray full of food, more cautious of his steps lest he trip, fall, break one of the mugs and ruin Albus' twentieth birthday entirely with a trip to St. Mungo's than of being quiet.

Still, his caution paid off when he found Albus still asleep, sprawled out on his stomach and clinging to his pillow. Scorpius set the tray down on his side of the bed and knelt beside Albus, shaking him by the shoulder until he jolted awake.

"'S everything okay?" he asked quickly, looking around with bleary eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Scorpius assured him. "Happy Birthday, love."

Albus' sleepy expression broke into a smile, and he flopped back down onto his pillow. He looked up at Scorpius affectionately and reached out for him, still uncoordinated and drowsy. Scorpius laughed and steadied the tray before leaning over and kissing Albus on the cheek, temple, and then lips.

"Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday," he sang. "I love you. I made you breakfast."

Albus' face fell. "You cooked?" he asked quickly. "After the soup incident, you promised you wouldn't –"

Scorpius held up his hand to stem Albus' rambling. "I can handle bagels and some tea, Al. I didn't even use a real knife."

"Thank Merlin," Albus grumbled, sitting up. "I'm not sure I'm awake enough to find the dittany."

Scorpius didn't tell him that the dittany was in the pocket of his robe, just in case. He passed Albus a cup of tea before grabbing his own and sitting beside him.

"You've got the day off," Scorpius reminded him. "What do you want to do?"

Albus sipped his tea thoughtfully. "Bookstore, lunch, nap, and then dinner at my parents' house."

"Bookstore?"

"You owe me another dragon adventure after I read that awful Dickens book," Albus said, smirking.

"I probably owe you two more," Scorpius laughed, resting his head back against the wall. He felt remarkably at-ease with Albus smiling at him. It felt almost like a normal birthday morning. Almost.

"Or," Albus began, "you could give me what I really want for my birthday."

Scorpius couldn't tell if he was being suggestive or not, but if Albus was he'd be happy to oblige to the best of his ability, though that may necessitate a change in the order of the day to nap, lunch, bookstore, another nap, and then dinner at the Potters'.

"And what's that?"

"It could be get 'married, bookstore, lunch, nap, dinner.'"

"They should bottle that Potter-persistence and sell it to students studying for NEWTs."

"Is that a 'yes' because you admire my persistence?"

"It's a 'not today', though I admire your persistence."

Albus grumbled at him, sipping his tea and grabbing his bagel, but Scorpius thought he saw a bit of a smile as Albus took the first bite.

* * *

Scorpius tried his hardest to stay lively throughout Albus' birthday dinner, and three cups of coffee should have done the trick. Still, by the time the Potters (and a few Malfoys and Granger-Weasleys) descended into heated and tipsy arguments about Quidditch, standardized testing for young wizards and witches, and whether or not the ministry's muggleborn integration program was working, Scorpius was nursing a small headache and chose to step outside.

The warm late-July air felt like a blanket when he walked onto the front porch. It heated his bones and brought feeling back to his fingertips, and he stretched to the point of pain before sitting on the railing and looking out over the dark field around them. He could hear various insects starting to sing as the world settled down for the night, and in the distance he could see a small number of fireflies starting to rise above the grass.

Scorpius sighed and leaned into one of the wooden columns. It had been a good day spent with Albus, and he hoped it had been a good birthday. Albus even joined him for a two-hour nap in the middle of the afternoon – a rarity, lately, since he was always either working or taking care of Scorpius.

Even in the dark, Scorpius could see the light bruises on his fingertips and the discoloration around his hands. Try as he might, he couldn't protect himself from all the perils of everyday life, and his hands took a great deal of the damage.

He was barely aware of the door creaking open behind him.

"Mind if I join you?"

For a moment, he thought it was Albus. He turned and was surprised to see Harry instead, closing the door behind him and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Of course."

The thrill of being around the Boy Who Lived had worn off long ago – probably when Scorpius stumbled into the Potters' kitchen very early one morning before seventh year and found Harry snogging his wife against the kitchen counter in only a pair of old and faded Chudley Cannons boxers.

Still, when Harry swung his legs over the railing and sat beside him, making it apparent that he wanted to talk, Scorpius' heart beat just a little bit faster. He swallowed down his apprehension and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Al seems happy today."

"He does," Harry agreed. "Happier than he has in a long time."

Scorpius smiled, playing with the cuffs of his shirt absently, hoping Harry just wanted to catch up and chat. "I think he's excited about the book we're reading next."

"You scared the hell out of him the other day."

"Oh."

Scorpius looked down at his shoes, tapping the soles together in disappointment.

"I came by late that night," Harry explained. "Don't worry, I didn't tell your father."

"I didn't mean to," Scorpius said sheepishly. "I really didn't. I just… didn't wake up."

He chanced a look at Harry and saw him looking out at the dark silhouette of the forest. He was starting to look closer to his age, and now some gray hair had crept into the stubble on his cheeks. Scorpius imagined Albus in his forties and fifties. He'd look so much like Harry, but Scorpius pinpointed all the differences while Harry mulled over what to say – scars Albus had that Harry didn't. The way Albus' jaw was a bit wider and his nose a tiny bit shorter. Albus' lips were fuller too – more like his mother's – but Harry was a good estimation of what Albus would look like in the future, and Scorpius wanted nothing more than to be around long enough to see it.

"I have to ask you to do something very difficult, Scorpius," Harry said carefully. He was deeply uncomfortable and entirely still with his hands folded neatly in his lap. Scorpius held his breath and stared at him expectantly. Harry looked at him with a piercing gaze and Scorpius stopped breathing altogether.

"If the time comes and it becomes apparent that the cure for your condition won't work," Harry began slowly, his words measured and clearly mulled-over, "I need you to promise me that you'll marry Albus before you die."

Scorpius winced at the last word. "That's… not at all what I was expecting you to say," Scorpius confessed. "Not that I had expected anything, really. Just…"

Harry stared at him, waiting politely for him to finish, but Scorpius lost his train of thought and shook his head.

"It will kill him if you don't," Harry pressed. There was a fire in his expression that made Scorpius wholly believe that this was the man who'd willingly sacrificed himself for those he loved. He looked to be on the verge of threatening Scorpius already.

"It's something James said," Scorpius explained. "He said the word _widower_ , and I can't get it out of my head."

Harry seemed to understand, but studied Scorpius still until he finally sighed and looked away.

"You must be tired of it always being _something_ around here," Scorpius said. "And a good bit of it has been my fault."

"None of this has been your fault," Harry said firmly. "Not when you were kidnapped, and not now. Hell, it wasn't even your fault when you got roped into that time travel mess. That was all Albus."

"Well, right now it just feels like I'm the weakling pulling everyone down," Scorpius muttered before he could filter his thoughts.

"It's not fun when you feel like the problem," Harry said. "But it's not your fault, Scorpius. And personally, I think you've been very brave in how you've handled all of this. Even though I think you should have told us as soon as you knew something was wrong."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry said. "I understand why you did it. How long did you know, if you don't mind me asking?"

"If I'm honest? I started suspecting a year ago, but it was just little things that made me go 'huh. Better keep an eye on that.'"

"A year? That's rough."

"I didn't want to cause anyone any unnecessary stress."

"Stupidly noble," Harry said, nodding. "I get it."

"It got worse at an alarming rate," Scorpius added. "It's like it knows I'm trying to stop it."

Harry looked at him with such sorrow and pity that Scorpius had to look away. He knew Harry spoke out of concern for his son – that his main concern was Albus' wellbeing whether or not Scorpius managed to escape his mother's fate. At the very least, they had that in common.

"I tried to keep Albus' birthday as normal as possible," Scorpius said, looking over his shoulder. He could just see into the kitchen where Albus was sitting on the counter, drinking a Butterbeer with James. They were laughing about something, and Scorpius smiled until he saw Albus absently reach for his ring, twisting it around his finger as he talked. Scorpius felt over the warm metal of his own and paused, thinking and watching as Albus laughed again, nearly knocking over a holder of kitchen utensils, making him laugh even harder. It was the kind of laugh that reminded him of late nights in the Hogwarts library and lazy Saturday afternoons at their home – the kind of laugh that softened his resolve and broke his heart.

"You know, I really do love him more than my own life," Scorpius said calmly, though he'd never put words to the intensity of his feelings before. His eyes stayed glued to Albus. "He was my first friend and the only person I could ever imagine loving. I'd never want to hurt him if I had to leave him behind."

"So you promise?"

Scorpius watched Albus slide down from the counter, taking a gift from Lily and hugging her before even opening it. His smile destroyed what was left of Scorpius' resolved.

"I promise."

Beside him, Harry breathed a long sigh of relief. Scorpius tore his eyes away from Albus and looked at him. It was clear this had been weighing on Harry as he offered a calmed smile and patted Scorpius gently on the back.

"Thank you, Scorpius," Harry said. "And… well, for the record, Ginny and I love you very much, and no matter what happens, you're a part of our family. You have been for a long time."

"I've always liked being an honorary Potter," Scorpius admitted. He felt heat rise in his face and worried for a moment that he was running a fever until he realized he was simply blushing.

"I guess you'd be a real Potter," Harry mused. "Potter-Malfoy? Malfoy-Potter?"

"Malfoy-Potter," Scorpius clarified. "We talked about it a few weeks ago."

"Any particular reason?"

"Well, I like the sound of Potter-Malfoy better, but my brain can't handle the names not being alphabetical, so Malfoy-Potter it is."

Harry laughed. "If you ever do something to make Hermione mad, please tell her that. It'll get you out of trouble instantly."

"I'll keep that in my back pocket then, just in case I ever _really_ need it," Scorpius said, smirking.

Behind them, the door creaked open and Albus stepped out. Someone had attached a button that said "Birthday Boy" to the front pocket of his shirt. He fumbled with it and Scorpius could see why – not only was it glowing an obnoxious red, it was also singing Happy Birthday in a voice that reminded him of a drunken House Elf.

"What are you two talking about?" Albus asked warily.

"You," Scorpius said simply.

"Scorpius was trying to explain to me exactly why he loves you," Harry said, smirking. "I just don't see it."

Albus rolled his eyes at him and walked over to Scorpius and wrapped his arms around his middle from behind. His hold was careful – Albus had seen the small, faint blue splotches that had started growing across Scorpius' stomach. They weren't tender, but Albus still insisted upon being cautious.

Scorpius leaned back into him and closed his eyes, reveling in the smell of his soap and the strength of his arms. He felt safer here than anywhere else in the world.

"It's simple," Albus said. "Scorpius _really_ liked the fit of my Quidditch uniform at Hogwarts and never quite recovered."

Scorpius laughed as Albus pressed a kiss to his cheek. "That's a decent summary," Scorpius admitted. Albus chuckled, swaying with him lightly, smelling of firewhiskey and birthday cake, and before Scorpius could get too caught up in it, Harry swung his legs back over the railing to leave. He was smiling at them, but when he met Scorpius' gaze briefly as he passed, Scorpius knew there was no chance of his promise being forgotten.

* * *

**2 days**

Draco checked on the potion for the fifth time that morning, comparing its appearance with notes from Slughorn and Albus' Mongolian curse-breaker-healer friend. The fact that it matched two experts' independent notes didn't do much to calm him. Instead, it only served to make him more anxious – there was nothing for him to do but wait and hope, and neither patience nor optimism had ever been his virtues.

The liquid was thin and black. It shimmered ominously when he moved the light from his wand over the surface, and it would have been mesmerizing if Draco wasn't so afraid of it.

"Draco?"

Draco jumped and turned to the door. Albus stood there with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the cauldron with distain. He and Scorpius had been staying at the manor for a week now – something had happened that frightened Albus into realizing he needed more help to care for Scorpius, and Draco was all too happy to have his son at home during this trying time where he was little more than a shout away.

"He's still asleep," Albus told him. "I've got to go to work for a bit but I'll be back as soon as I can. I'd get him up in about an hour. He'll need more of the blood replenishing potion and I know he wanted to spend some time with Orion."

Draco sighed. In his waking hours, Scorpius had become obsessed with spending every possible moment with Orion. He said it was because being around his cheerful younger brother made him happy, but Draco knew better. He'd been here before. Scorpius was simply hoping to make some kind of impression on the child – just in case.

"Did he get sick in the night?"

Albus closed his eyes wearily and nodded. His movements were sluggish and tired. "Yeah. It's been worse. He held down some toast after."

Even Draco had to admit that it was a comfort having Albus close too. Though Dania and Ainsley loved Scorpius a great deal, Draco knew the only person capable of loving his son as much as he did was Albus, and in some ways it made him feel less alone.

"I'll look after him," Draco assured him. Of course, Albus knew Draco would, but Draco knew Albus needed to hear it the same way Dania assured them she'd double check Scorpius' heart and Albus assured Draco each night that he'd wake him if Scorpius needed him.

Down the hall, Draco heard Orion begin crying. He was quieted quickly – Dania must have gotten to him quickly – and he saw Albus wince and rub his temples.

"Only Scorpius could make an infant seem low-maintenance," Albus grumbled. "I swear, when he's healthy again we are going directly to Fiji and I am laying on a beach and doing _nothing_ for seven days."

"Oh, when he's healthy again I doubt you'll be able to get him to sit still for seven minutes," Draco said. It felt good to say _when_ , and both he and Albus kept talking about what they would do _when_ Scorpius was better. _When_ he was well. _When_ this was over.

Albus smiled wearily and nodded. "Well, I'm off. Give Slughorn my regards when he comes by."

"I will," Draco assured him.

Albus left quietly, and Draco ran his hands back through his hair. For years he would run down to look at Astoria's portrait when he felt lost or confused, but now he could barely look at her. He avoided his favorite armchair and kept his eyes averted when he had to use the manor's Floo connection. He felt trapped without her, watching their son fade and day by day becoming more certain that the curse did somehow know they were trying to destroy it. He wondered if the potion simmering softly behind him could have saved her – if _he_ could have saved her – but shook off the thought, forcing himself to take his own advice.

 _We can't change the past_ , Draco thought, but no matter how many times he said the words to himself, he still saw a spinning time-turner when he closed his eyes.

Draco decided to indulge in some selfishness and left the room, closing the door securely behind himself and heading down the hall to Scorpius' bedroom.

He opened the door quietly. It wasn't so different from when he was a child – books and keepsakes spread everywhere, pillows thrown across the window seat and sheer curtains that let the morning light in.

Scorpius was still in bed with the blankets arranged nearly around him – no doubt Albus' doing, as they were tucked in securely around his legs and torso. He seemed content, spread out on his stomach with his arms under his pillow and an empty bottle of pepperup potion beside the bed.

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. He never thought he would feel this sense of foreboding ever again. It was a shadow so dark hanging over his head that even Orion's bright, carefree laughter often failed to lift his spirits.

He checked his watch and sighed – it was still early for Scorpius' recent standards, so he settled into the window seat where he could look after his son while he slept. It was the only time Scorpius looked peaceful these last few days, and watching him – though Draco was somewhat aware of how creepy it seemed – was the only thing that brought him any comfort, though it was marred by the splotches that had begun appearing on Scorpius' skin.

After a few minutes of watching, the door to the room creaked open and Ainsley peered in, still in her lavender pajamas. She was wearing her glasses more these days since she was staying at home with increasing frequency, especially in the last week.

She glanced from Scorpius to Draco and back again, and Draco beckoned her over. She closed the door behind herself silently and crept over to the window seat.

"How is he?" she whispered.

"Sleeping peacefully," Draco assured her.

She sat down beside him, looking anxious and unnerved as she looked over Scorpius' still, sleeping form.

"Does he know you watch him sleep?"

"Oh, no," Draco chuckled. "He'd find that terribly creepy."

Scorpius rolled over onto his back, muttering incoherently in his sleep before falling still again, his arm stretched out overhead. Even at a distance, Draco could see the faint blue veins and arteries under his skin – something Ainsley had begun noticing on her own body too. They'd become more pronounced recently, and every time he saw them, Draco remembered Astoria and her collection of ankle-length dresses that hid the state of her legs in the last years of her life.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Ainsley asked.

"Of course he will," Draco said, hiding his uncertainty. It was a skill he'd mastered when Scorpius was young. When they'd visited Astoria at St. Mungo's the few times she'd been hospitalized when he was a child, Draco had to answer all his son's incessant questions with confidence and certainty. "He's always been strong."

"It's not fair," Ainsley whispered. "He shouldn't have to deal with this. Not when I'm nowhere near his condition."

"He keeps saying it's like the curse knows and it's rebelling," Draco said. "I'm not sure that it's not just the stress of waiting exacerbating it."

"Are _you_ okay?"

Ainsley looked up at him expectantly. With her glasses on the resemblance between her and Scorpius was even more profound.

"I'm fine," Draco assured her. "I'm just worried about the both of you."

Ainsley looked back to her cousin and watched him closely as he shifted again. Draco realized he hadn't seen her smile for days, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her lean against him.

"James is going to drive me mad before all is said and done," Ainsley said. "He's quite paranoid."

"Apparently it's a Potter thing," Draco said. "I watched Albus convince Scorpius to wear gloves while reading so he wouldn't get a papercut last night."

Ainsley snorted with laughter and covered her mouth in restraint to avoid waking her cousin. Draco smiled, feeling for the first time that day that he'd accomplished something.

* * *

**0 days**

Scorpius watched his father draw a pure silver knife from his pocket and drag the blade across his palm, slicing it open as if it were nothing. Draco didn't even cringe as he held his hand over the flask Slughorn had handed him, calmly waiting for enough of his blood to fill the container. It was as though he did this every day.

"Just a bit more, m'boy," Slughorn said, watching the level of dark liquid rise. Ainsley, unable to watch, turned her face into James' shirt. "That's it."

While the steady stream of blood ran into the vial, Draco calmly looked around and met Scorpius' worried eyes. He smiled and shook his head. "This is hardly the strangest thing I've done," he said. Scorpius didn't feel very reassured.

"That's enough," Slughorn told Draco. He eyed the flask with a bit of distain but held his tongue. Scorpius suspected Draco had told him not to make a fuss for his and Ainsley's sake, and he had to admit that he was grateful.

Draco tilted his palm up and let Dania wrap the dittany-soaked bandage she'd prepared around it. Her fingers moved quickly around her husband's hand until she tied the bandage and tucked the loose ends in. Scorpius watched his father's shaky smile as he thanked his wife and drew her hand up to kiss her knuckles. Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus', running his hand down his wrist until Albus wove their fingers together and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Scorpius felt it in each of the joints in his hand, but found he didn't much care.

His attention turned back to Slughorn, who was carefully stirring Draco's blood into the cauldron, watching the surface carefully as he did so. Scorpius couldn't tell if he was horrified or fascinated as he watched, but Albus seemed to sense his discomfort. Albus' arms slid around Scorpius' midsection as they watched.

From the other side of the room, James shifted nervously from foot to foot, one arm still around Ainsley. "How will you know when it's right?"

"According to the notes, the surface should change from black to a silver color – ah!"

Slughorn stepped back, looking pleased with himself, leaning onto a wooden walking stick for stability. Scorpius stood on his toes to see, unwilling to walk forward. The surface was changing from black to a shimmery gray as bubbles rose from the bottom, and then all at once the potion stilled and the surface evened out to look like smooth mercury.

"That should do it," said Slughorn after a moment of reviewing the notes. He looked around at all of them as an unsettling silence descended over them. Scorpius felt a lump rise in his throat as Albus' arm tightened around his waist. He'd fought so hard to track down the information – to get the translations and find out who'd cursed his family – and so many people had pulled together to make a single cauldron of liquid possible, and now he couldn't even bear to look at it.

"I don't like this," Scorpius muttered into Albus hair.

"It smells awful," Albus agreed. Indeed it did, but that wasn't the cause of Scorpius' reticence. Before it was a challenge, and then a challenge of patience. Now, Scorpius was about to find out if he was right or not, and he wasn't truly sure he wanted to know.

But Slughorn was already using a ladle to pour two cups of the potion. The liquid slid into the clear glasses and settled heavy at the bottom. "Now, it shouldn't take more than three days for you to know if it worked or not," he said, looking between Scorpius and Ainsley. She took a tentative step forward, freeing herself from James' arms. Scorpius stayed right where he was, pressed against Albus' side, even though Albus had loosened his hold.

"Well, I believe three. Albus' friend said she'd estimate five days maximum."

"Five days," James groaned. Ainsley shot him a piteous look.

"I told you all of this."

"I know," James admitted. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Slughorn handed Ainsley her glass, and she straightened, held her head high, and took it. She met Scorpius' eyes and waited for him to do the same.

"Go on, love," Albus said, pressing against Scorpius' back. His instincts to go back to bed and hide had kicked in, and Scorpius began actively craving the smell of his favorite quilt – fresh linen sprayed with fresh lavender and mint.

He forced himself to approach Slughorn and took the glass with a shaky, stiff hand. It felt heavy – weighed down by the dense potion – and Scorpius looked down at its still, shimmering surface before meeting Draco's eyes.

"Go on," Draco said. His encouraging smile made Scorpius feel a little safer and a little braver. He looked at Ainsley and at James standing behind her, a hand absently stroking her hair – silent but present. He felt Albus' hand come to rest between his shoulder blades, and Scorpius closed his eyes for a brief moment before holding his glass out to Ainsley. She gave him a shaky smile, nodded, and tapped the edge of her glass against his with a soft _clink_ and together they drank the thick, bitter concoction.

The awful taste and sulfuric smell weren't the worst of it. As soon as the potion hit Scorpius' throat it started burning worse than anything he'd ever felt. He gagged, tossing the glass onto the table, and held his breath as he waited for it to pass, knowing he had to hold it down. There wasn't enough for a third dose, and he knew deep in his bones that he didn't have enough time left for another round. He pointed at his empty glass, and looked at Albus.

"Water," he choked. Albus nearly tripped over himself rushing forward. Scorpius bent over, feeling the fire spread down his chest and into his stomach, and Draco stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Scorpius' back.

He heard Albus' soft ' _aguamenti'_ and felt the glass pressed back into his hand. He took it gratefully and downed the water.

"It burns," Scorpius explained needlessly. Surely Ainsley was having the same reaction, but he couldn't focus or straighten to check.

Draco sounded worried.

"Is that supposed to happen?"

Albus filled the glass again and Scorpius drained it quickly. The water offered temporary relief, and Scorpius managed to stand up straight as the fire calmed to mere cinders in his gut.

"I don't know," Slughorn said, worried. "Ainsley?"

"It tasted awful," Ainsley told him. "It burned a bit, but not like that." The gestured at Scorpius, who was grateful when Albus wrapped his arm back around him and leaned into the support.

"It's fine," Scorpius said. "It's calmed down now, I'm okay."

The water's effect was starting to wear off, but without the blinding pain, Scorpius was able to draw his wand and fill the glass himself. He gulped down two more glasses under six pairs of watchful eyes. He was always thirsty now and his lips were constantly chapped and dry, so it wasn't entirely unusual for him to drain an entire glass at once, but four in a row was a bit much.

"Is there anything he can take for the burning?"

"I don't think so," Dania said, worried. She looked at Scorpius with sympathy. "I'm afraid whatever he takes might interact."

"So we just have to wait?" Ainsley asked. Scorpius noticed she looked a bit paler than she had a few moments ago, and a fine sheen of sweat was present on her forehead.

"I'm afraid so," confirmed Slughorn.

Scorpius looked over at Albus who was observing his every move. There was a list of silent questions in his gaze – _are you okay? What can I do? Can you feel a difference?_ Scorpius shook his head at all of them and wrapped his fingers around the back of Albus' shirt, fidgeting with the fabric.

"It just burned all the way down," Scorpius said. "I'm fine. Really."

Albus looked at Draco and Scorpius saw the silent understanding that passed between them. Neither believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [@Reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for reading and catching my errors. I'm hoping I didn't screw it up when I did a final read-through.
> 
> I'm posting the next chapter right away because if I don't I'll just obsess over it. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	19. Today

**-1 day**

Four o'clock in the morning, James decided, was the most horrible time to be awake. He was tired, but it was too late to go to sleep when he knew morning was so close, and he had barely closed his eyes all night. Sleeping at the manor wasn't uncommon for him, but sleeping with Ainsley thrashing and whimpering in her sleep was an experience he'd never had.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching over her, trying uselessly to soothe her. He conjured damp towels to clear the sweat from her brow and calm her fever. She was so tired that she only woke for a few minutes each time before drifting back off to sleep, and he'd long since stopped trying to keep her awake. He hoped poor sleep was better than no sleep, at least.

James had never seen her – or anyone – like this. Ainsley wasn't a prim-and-proper sort of girl, but she didn't like to be around people when she was ill, and she was meticulous about her hair and skin (one of the few holdovers from life with Daphne that she kept), so it was strange and disorienting to see her looking so pallid with her hair tangled and matted from writhing in her sleep.

The clock at the end of the hall chimed four times – James counted them – and he took Ainsley's hand in his own, hoping desperately to calm and anchor her, but knew it was no use. In the few moments that she calmed, the house was silent save for similar sounds of unrest carried down the hall from Scorpius' room. It sounded like his brother wasn't getting any sleep either.

* * *

In the morning, Draco and Dania insisted upon taking over. Ainsley demanded to see her cousin and refused to allow James to carry her to his room. For several shaky minutes, they walked down the hall – Ainsley clutching James' hand and Dania not far behind.

Albus was asleep on the window seat, curled into a tight ball and wrapped in a soft blanket. Draco was seated at the foot of Scorpius' bed with a tray of half-eaten scrambled eggs beside him and Scorpius curled up in the center of the mattress. Ainsley noticed that he looked quite lost, watching over his son with a vacant, expressionless stare.

"Draco?" James said. Dania moved past them and felt Scorpius' forehead with the back of her hand, just as she had done with Ainsley a few minutes prior.

Draco looked at them for a moment, blinking as if he didn't recognize them for a moment.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Ainsley.

"Rough," she admitted. James held onto her shoulders and took her over to the bed. She instantly fell onto it, stretching out beside her cousin. It was only then that she realized Scorpius was awake when he reached out and patted her calf – the nearest thing he could reach – with his cold hand. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Hopefully this only lasts for a day," he said with forced optimism.

"Hopefully."

"How are you doing?" he asked, turning his face into his own arm. "I'm sorry – I can't open my eyes. I've got the worst headache I've ever experienced."

"Headache?" Ainsley asked. "I guess my head hurts a bit, but I'm cold, mostly. And achy."

"Fascinating," Scorpius said, and she could tell he truly thought it was interesting. "We should write this down – it might be useful to someone someday."

"That's true," Ainsley said. "Remind me to find adequate words to describe this later. I think 'joints full of rust' and 'feels like an ice bath' would help."

James shook his head, smiling at them fondly. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes that Ainsley had never seen, and it roused her instinct to take care of him – make him sleep and force feed him soup and chocolate until he felt better – but she was so far from being able to do that. Once again, she felt quite useless.

"Only you two would be worried about whether or not this was documented to help someone else," James said. He stifled a yawn.

"You should get some sleep, James," Draco said. "We'll look after them."

Ainsley watched James' eyes flicker from her and Scorpius to Albus, who looked tight and tense even in his sleep. He nodded, reluctantly.

"Alright," he said. "But only because I'll be useless later if I don't."

"That's what Albus said too," Scorpius muttered. "Bloody Potters."

At that, Ainsley finally saw Draco's expression crack into a bit of a smile. He reached out and stroked Scorpius' damp hair with a bit of relief. Surely if he was still teasing Albus and James, it couldn't be that bad.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Albus pulled himself from under the cashmere blanket, groggy and disoriented. He barely remembered laying down on the window seat and had a vague recollection of voices in the room, but he'd mostly been out cold after a sleepless night.

Fortunately, now Scorpius seemed to be dozing, stretched out along the bed. Albus watched him for a moment to make sure he was okay – his fingers twitched every few seconds and he'd thrown off his blanket at some point, but for the moment things were calm.

Albus left the room quietly and headed downstairs, deciding along the way that he should be responsible and check in with work. After a quick detour to the kitchen where Pokey gave him a sandwich, he went to the sitting room and knelt before the fireplace. He threw some Floo powder in and called upon the Magizoology Society. While he waited for the attendant to fetch Magorian, Albus settled onto the floor and picked at his sandwich. He didn't have much of an appetite but knew he needed to eat. Ten minutes later when Magorian's face appeared in the fireplace, he'd only eaten about a third of it.

"Albus," he greeted. "How're things?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Albus shrugged. He'd expected and hoped for better, of course, but didn't want to admit that or open himself up for questions. Magorian knew a good bit of what had been going on – Albus had been compelled to explain when he kept shortening his days and missing work, and had been fortunate to have a supervisor that understood. "I just wanted to check in and make sure my baby mooncalf was doing okay."

"She's fine," Magorian assured him. "Your Uncle Charlie came in and checked on her personally this mornin'."

Albus felt a wave of warm affection for his uncle and smiled for the first time that day.

"When can we be expectin' you back?" Magorian asked.

Albus looked down and tore a piece of bread in half. "I don't know, to be honest," Albus admitted. "I was hoping later this week, but now I'm not so sure. Things haven't been going smoothly."

Magorian paused and regarded Albus, his face shifting through different shades of green in the flames.

"Al, I have to ask – should I be expectin' you to take bereavement leave soon?"

Albus' eyes widened and his hands stilled. His throat constricted painfully. "Bereavement?"

Magorian didn't seem to want to repeat himself or confirm what he'd said, but Albus didn't need him to.

"I-I don't know," he stammered. "I'm not… I don't know what's happening."

"Okay," Magorian said. "'M sorry I asked."

"Don't be," Albus said quickly. "You'd need to know, but I don't know what's happening."

"Keep me updated, Albus," Magorian said earnestly. "'M worried about you."

"I will, sir," Albus promised, regretting that he'd checked in at all. "Thank you for understanding."

Magorian nodded, and Albus heard a great crash from the other end of the Floo. His face disappeared momentarily, and when it reappeared, he looked exasperated. "Bloody Kneazle is out again," he explained. "Got to go."

"Bye."

Albus watched Magorian's face disappear, and the flames flickered back to a warm yellow. He stared into them for a long time, thinking the word _bereavement_ over and over again until he'd shredded what was left of his sandwich until it was unrecognizable.

* * *

**-2 days**

Scorpius and Ainsley were both exhausted by the second day. Ainsley's hands shook incessantly, and it had gotten so bad that she'd requested meals that didn't require utensils, despite James' insistence that he'd think no less of her if he had to help her eat.

Scorpius, on the other hand, was alternating between freezing and overheating and was more nauseated than shaky. When he got out of bed, he kept himself wrapped in his heaviest bathrobe and blanket, but didn't go far.

"I feel like the burning that this started with turned into freezing very quickly," he'd told Albus upon waking after another fitful night.

By lunch time, Scorpius' nerves were frayed beyond keeping up any semblance of politeness. He, Draco and Albus had lunch in the library, where he was asked no less than twelve times if he needed anything at all. Scorpius was halfway out of his seat to put his things on the cart Pokey had brought when Albus quickly took his plate from him, telling him to sit back down and relax. It was too much.

"I can do it myself, Albus," Scorpius snapped. Albus froze and stared at him in surprise.

Draco, who sat next to Scorpius, placed a placating hand on his son's shoulder. Scorpius tensed at the touch.

"I don't think Albus meant you couldn't," Draco said softly.

"I didn't," Albus said. "I was just –"

"I know," Scorpius sighed, irritated. He rubbed his pounding temples. "Can you both just leave me alone for a bit? I need a minute."

Albus and Draco exchanged reluctant glances.

"I'll be fine. Just… _go._ "

Draco and Albus, at a loss, got up and took the plates from lunch with them. Draco took the cart with him when he left, and Albus gave Scorpius one last miserable look before following him.

Scorpius regretted asking them to leave instantly. He slumped in his seat, tightening his blanket around his shoulders and closed his eyes. His entire body ached and his head pounded so hard he could barely think. His glasses felt useless on his nose – he could barely see straight anyway – so he took them off and tossed them onto the table.

Two days and he felt ten times as bad as he had before taking the potion. Two days and no improvement. Two days, and there had been a moment the night before that he'd been nearly begging for death, lying exhausted and pained in Albus' arms.

With great effort, Scorpius pulled himself up from his seat, bracing himself against the table. The act of standing had him breathing hard, and he stilled to catch his breath, staring down at the dark wood and the faint scratches he'd left there as a child playing games with his mother.

He wished she were here now more than ever.

When he was able, Scorpius mustered his remaining energy and shuffled over to the sofa where he collapsed into the soft cushions. He lay across them, turning his face into the blue suede and struggling to tuck his feet under the blanket to stay warm.

He lay there, dazed and depressed for what felt like a very long time. He couldn't tell anymore – his sense of time was completely gone – but when Albus came back in, dressed in fresh clothes and showered, it felt like he'd been gone forever.

"Scorp?"

Scorpius looked up as he entered, only moving his eyes.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," he said before Albus could say anything. He had to keep reminding himself that Albus wasn't looking at him with pity – it was _sympathy_ , and those two often looked like the same thing.

"I'm sorry if I was being pushy."

"You weren't," Scorpius assured him. He tried to push himself up slowly and carefully, his arms shaking as he did so. Albus' made a quick step forward as if to help, but stopped himself short, his arms falling limp at his sides.

"Come here," Scorpius said. "Please?"

Albus moved to him quickly and sat down in the space beside Scorpius, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer. Now that he felt calmer, Scorpius noticed the care in Albus' careful touches and he melted into them – not that he had much of a choice. Albus drew Scorpius' legs across his lap, letting him sit closer.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, once they were settled. "I really am. And I'm sorry for everything you've had to deal with."

"Don't apologize," Albus said, shaking his head. Scorpius stared at him, searching for the small ring of brown at the center of his green irises. He wanted to memorize everything – the flecks of color in Albus' eyes, the placement of each of his freckles, and the few small moles that dotted his neck.

"What?" Albus asked when he'd been staring too long.

Scorpius shook his head, resting back against the sofa. "Nothing. I just… I love you. You know that right?"

Albus' jaw tightened, and his lips pressed into a hard line. "I do. But don't say it like you're saying goodbye."

"I'm…" Scorpius wanted to stay that he wasn't. He hadn't intended to sound that way. Perhaps he was just remembering how his mother had made sure he knew he was loved in the months before her death – reminding him and finding little ways to tell him each day, just in case. "I'm just covering all my goal posts."

Albus said nothing and held Scorpius closer, his hands roaming across his back and arms as best as they could over three layers of fabric. Scorpius pressed himself farther into Albus' warmth, content with the silence until Albus spoke.

"How many children do you want?"

Scorpius wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What?"

"I want to know. I don't think I ever asked."

"I don't know," Scorpius said.

"What about pets? Do you want another dog?"

"I'm not sure."

"How about a barn? We could raise owls if we ever get that house in the country."

Scorpius turned his face into Albus' shoulder. "I can't think that far ahead."

"Is it because we're not married? Because I can call Aunt Hermione –"

" _Albus_ ," Scorpius warned. "This is hardly the time."

"I know," Albus said. His voice dropped a bit. "I need you to think about those things, though."

Albus ran his hands softly over each inch of bare skin he could find across Scorpius' cheek and neck until he finally reached for his hand, taking it softly into his own. Albus ran his thumb over Scorpius' palm lightly, careful of the faint bruises still visible on his skin, though he hadn't played the piano for days.

Scorpius felt his breathing slow as his body started to take over, forcing him to sleep from his exhaustion even if his mind wanted to tell Albus that he _wanted_ to think that far ahead. He wanted to think far enough ahead that he could see their home messy from their children playing and crawling with dogs and cats and whatever other creatures Albus wanted to take care of. He wanted to tell Albus that he wanted so many things, but his body wouldn't let him, and he drifted off to sleep thinking of children laughing and the whistle of the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

**-3 days**

Draco woke with a start. In the brief moment of silence he wondered what had woken him, but he heard no cries from Orion and no noise down the hall. He reached for Dania but found her side of the bed warm and newly emptied. Orion's bassinet was vacant as well, and he sat up, confused. He hadn't been dreaming, though he'd had some spectacular stress dreams earlier in the evening featuring his father, Lord Voldemort, and his son's name etched on a gravestone.

Then he heard it. Laughter from far down the hall. It came closer and closer – a high-pitched and gleeful sound followed by a hearty, happy laugh and footsteps. Ainsley and James.

He raised his brows as he heard another familiar sound – that of a body hitting a wall and the faint moan of two people kissing and breaking apart, laughing again before they ran down the hall in bare feet, and their voices faded down the stairs.

Draco jumped out of bed, disregarding his slippers, and grabbed his wand from his dresser. If Ainsley was laughing – if Ainsley was _running_ , then she was okay. And if Ainsley was okay and with James then she didn't need him just yet.

Draco moved quickly from the room and into the hallway. He listened closely for any sounds from behind the heavy wooden door to Scorpius' room. Silence.

With the utmost care, Draco opened Scorpius' door and peered inside. The shades were open, letting light in through the sheer curtains and throwing a soft summer glow around the room, lighting the blue walls and the bookshelves that adorned them, as well as the massive bed at the center of the room. Draco stepped inside. Under normal circumstances, Draco would never have entered his son's room like this, but this kind of impatience fluttering in his chest wasn't normal.

Albus was sitting up against the headboard with Scorpius resting on his chest, wrapped up in his blankets. He was looking down at Scorpius with one arm around his shoulders and the other resting on top of the covers, allowing his fingers to comb through Scorpius' hair over and over. From the doorway, all Draco could see of Scorpius was his arm draped over Albus' midsection and his bright hair splayed across Albus' dark green t-shirt. Albus, however, he could see perfectly.

The first thing he noticed at a distance was the tone of Albus' skin. It was splotchy as if he'd been crying – and Draco noticed he _was_ crying. There were defined tracks of tears down his cheeks that seemed to have gone unnoticed as he continued stroking Scorpius' hair, his movements repetitive and methodic.

 _Oh, no_ , Draco thought. He took a few steps closer, unnoticed by Albus who was too wrapped up in whatever he was seeing to notice Draco's presence. Draco looked closer and saw that Albus' calm was only surpassed by Scorpius' stillness. _No, no, no._

But something wasn't right. Albus leaned down and kissed the top of Scorpius' head, his eyes closed and his hands steady. Draco watched for a long moment as Albus stayed still, taking a deep, shuddering breath against Scorpius' hair, before rising, smiling, and relaxing back against the headboard.

"Albus?" Draco whispered when he couldn’t wait any longer.

Albus didn't look up, but Draco saw that he was startled at first. Then he grinned, still looking at Scorpius resting on his chest, happier than Draco had ever seen him. He blindly waved Draco over and he wasted no time in walking to the bed and looking down at his son.

There was color in his cheeks and his lips were a light pink again. The faint bruises on his hands were gone entirely, and the skin across his arms had lost its translucence. There were still small patches of discoloration, but they were negligible and fading.

Draco dropped to his knees beside the bed, falling to eye-level with his son's face. He was resting peacefully, his breathing even and effortless. His face was relaxed – there were no worry or pain lines on his brow or tears on his eyelashes. He was simply asleep.

"He fell asleep around eleven o'clock last night," Albus whispered. He still hadn't looked up. "He must have stayed still for a bit because I fell asleep too, and when I woke up about an hour ago…"

Albus gestured at Scorpius with his free hand, and no explanation was necessary. Draco suspected he hadn't looked away from Scorpius the entire time he'd been awake, and Draco understood why. His sleeping son, well and healing, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Draco didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He couldn't decide, and he was afraid he'd do both and wake Scorpius. He took deep breaths, trying to center himself but failing miserably. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, ecstatic with happiness, and he wanted to run down the hall and tell everyone that Scorpius was fine, but couldn't bring himself to stand up or look away.

"He's going to be okay," Draco whispered. Albus nodded, his hands moving back up to Scorpius' hair. It blocked Draco's view a bit, but he didn't much mind. His son deserved to be held like this – loved and safe – and he felt a bit like an intruder but trusted Albus would have told him to leave if it was a problem.

"Yeah, I think he is," Albus said. Only then did he look over at Draco. His eyes were bright and relieved. "Should we wake him?"

"I'd hate to," Draco admitted. "He looks so calm."

"He will most certainly not be calm when he wakes up," Albus said with a restrained laugh. Draco smiled and reached up, placing his hand over Scorpius'. It was warm again.

"Yes, let's wake him," Draco said after a moment. Albus shook Scorpius' shoulder gently, careful not to dislodge him or force him away. It took a few seconds for Scorpius to respond, and Albus stopped when he groaned and turned his face down against the sunlight.

"Scorp?" Albus said.

"What?" Scorpius groaned, so petulant that Draco began to laugh.

Scorpius looked up at him, clearly confused about his father's presence at the side of his bed. Draco sat up and moved to perch on the edge of the mattress while Scorpius rubbed his eyes. For a second, it looked like he was going to roll back onto what Draco assumed was his side of the bed, but Albus held onto him tight.

"What are you doing here, dad?" Scorpius asked when he was coherent enough. He studied Draco's face for a second. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He looked to Albus and sat up quickly against his side, his eyes wide and frightened. "Why are you crying? What's happened?"

Scorpius looked between them rapidly and Albus' grin grew so much that Draco suspected his face would hurt later in the day.

Draco placed a calming hand on his son's shoulder. "Look at your hands," he said.

Scorpius, confused, looked at one of his palms and drew the other from under the covers. He stared at them for several seconds, confused, turning his hands over and examining each of his fingers and the lines across his palms, tracing over one of them with his index finger. He held out his arms and looked at the skin there before jumping in surprise. He sat up on his knees and pulled up the hem of his heavy sleep shirt – one he normally only wore in the winter – and examined his stomach. It was free of marks. Beside him, Albus watched with rapt attention, still grinning and nearly quivering with excitement.

"It worked," Albus said. "See? It worked."

Scorpius said nothing and buried his face in his hands. A strange sound escaped between his fingers and Draco wasn't sure if he'd dissolved into tears or hysterical laughter. Albus pulled himself up and wrapped an arm around Scorpius' back, and Draco realized it was both.

"Scorpius?" Draco said. He wished he were closer where he could hold his son and tell him everything would be okay – it was difficult being the parent of an adult, he realized. He wanted nothing more than to comfort Scorpius, but knew if often wasn't his place anymore. He placed his hand on the back of Scorpius' neck instead. "Are you okay? You feel better, right?"

"I feel perfect," Scorpius said into his hands. "I feel completely normal."

"That's great," Albus said. The words were inadequate, but the crack in his voice said the rest.

After a few breaths in which Scorpius tried to calm himself, he let his hands fall, and Draco saw that he was smiling, really _smiling_ , his face covered in tears and his eyes clear of any pain. He looked at Draco, beaming, and then at Albus.

"And Ainsley?" he asked.

"Also fine," Albus assured him.

"I heard her and James laughing and running down the hall," Draco added. "She must have just woken. They sounded rather hysterical, to be honest."

Scorpius visibly relaxed even further. "Thank Merlin," he whispered, and without warning threw himself at Draco, wrapping his arms tight around his father's shoulders. Draco didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms tight around his son, embracing him fully and without fear of hurting him for the first time in months. He held Scorpius, feeling his shoulders shake with laughter and relieved tears, watching Albus smile at them as he wiped the moisture from his own cheeks with the edge of the quilt, until Scorpius stomach gave a growl so angry it couldn't be ignored.

"I guess that means you need breakfast," Draco laughed, releasing him. Scorpius sat back on his heels, smiling sheepishly and mopping up his face with his sleeve.

"That seems pretty mundane after realizing you're not dying anymore," he said with a hearty sniff.

"Even if it's strawberry pancakes?"

Scorpius grinned up at him from under his messy hair. "Well, that's a different matter entirely."

"I'll get started on them," Draco said, rising to his feet. Scorpius deserved a moment alone with his fiancé, and Draco wasn't sure he wanted to be there when Albus let out the wave of soppiness that surely hid behind that manic, endless grin. Still, he wanted to spend the day celebrating with his son. "Meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes?"

"Absolutely," Scorpius agreed. Albus nodded quickly and Draco, both happy and unwilling, backed up toward the door, still grinning at them.

Draco had let a lot of moments in his life pass without realizing their importance. He'd been so caught up in the logistics of his first wedding that he didn't notice how special Astoria's smile had been when they took the Unbreakable Vow. When Scorpius was born he was so afraid of messing up that he didn't appreciate his carefree infant giggles until they were nearly gone, and when he'd begun dating Dania, he'd been so concerned with betraying his wife's memory or somehow hurting this wonderful woman he'd come to care for, that he let some important moments slip by without appreciating them until after.

The importance of this moment, though, was not lost on Draco as he watched his son, grinning and full of life, fall into his fiancé's arms. He closed the door behind himself, and knew he was walking downstairs to see his loving wife, his infant son, and his adopted daughter and deliver life-changing good news, possibly for the first time in his adult life. He was happy – happier than he'd ever been in his life – and with that acknowledgment Draco paused in the hall.

He drew his wand from the pocket of his pajamas and stared at it for a moment. This wand had a lot of memories – his first days at Hogwarts. Harry nonchalantly handing it back after the Battle of Hogwarts. Enchanting his sons' toys to dance. Dueling Travers in a dusty old manor and blasting down a door. Conjuring flowers for Dania.

Draco held it lightly in his right hand, wondering if it was worth a try. He hadn't even made an effort in years, but now was as good a time as any…

Draco closed his eyes, listening to the laughter echo from downstairs, and he smiled to himself.

 _"Expecto Patronum_ ," he whispered, opening his eyes giving his wand a slight wave as he'd seen others do countless times.

For the first time, the mist took shape.

* * *

Albus hadn't stopped staring at him or smiling, and even though Scorpius was overwhelmed by relief, gratitude, happiness, and a million other things he couldn't name, it was beginning to get a bit awkward.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Scorpius asked with a chuckle.

"I don't know," Albus said, shaking his head. "I can't stop."

Scorpius flopped back onto the pillows, stretching for the first time without pain in ages, and grinned up at him. Scorpius seized the front of Albus' shirt and pulled him down roughly, taking his face in his hands and kissing him hard, both because he couldn't stand not doing it for a moment longer, and because he could.

Albus let out a surprised sound but took the suggestion and climbed over, never breaking contact, until his knees were on either side of Scorpius' torso and his hands were pressed into Scorpius' chest.

This alone was worth living for, Scorpius thought.

Albus kissed him without restraint, clutching him close and pressing his body down into Scorpius' arms until Scorpius had to pull away and breathe. He looked up at Albus' bright eyes and disastrous hair and chuckled.

"Five," Scorpius said.

"Five?"

"Five kids. I want five kids," Scorpius explained. "And a house out in the country with a lot of land around it so you can have a paddock and raise mooncalves and rehabilitate unicorns or whatever the hell it is you want to do."

Albus laughed, his hand resting on the side of Scorpius' face. He looked tearful in the best of ways. "And I want an attic for the library," Scorpius continued. "And you were right – a barn would be good for owls or whatever, but the kids could play out there too. And I want a big, open living room so we can have holidays at our house. And speaking of holidays, I want to make sure the kids see a lot of different places – and maybe the preserve in Brazil because it had such a big influence on you. And I want Orion to stay over at least once a week when he's old enough – for dad and Dania's sake and for mine. Just because I’m older doesn't mean I want to miss my little brother growing up."

"Where is all of this coming from?" Albus chuckled.

"You asked me to marry you sixty-two times, Albus," Scorpius said softly. "Did you think I didn't hear you?"

Albus bowed his head to Scorpius' chest, laughing to himself. "No, I wasn't sure you did," Albus said. "But you did say it was only because of the uncertainty, right? So how about sixty-three?"

Scorpius put his hand over Albus' mouth to silence him. He knew what Albus' next words would be, and he watched Albus' brow furrow in confusion and contrition. It was adorable, and admiring him gave Scorpius pause for a few more seconds.

"Marry me?" he asked, letting his hand fall to Albus' neck instead. "Marry me on Friday."

"Friday?"

"Give our parents a couple days to throw together a party. Dad will never forgive us if we don't," Scorpius said, pushing Albus' hair from his face to see his expression. "What do you say?"

Albus regarded him for a moment before leaning down and kissing him again, soft and gentle, and when he sat back just enough for Scorpius to see him properly, he was grinning again.

"I'm free on Friday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, the multiple pleas I've received on Scorpius' behalf paid off.
> 
> Thanks again to [@Reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for reading through this because she got both chapter 18 and 19 in a 58-page document and she got through it in a day. 
> 
>  
> 
> [ Currently accepting prompts to add to my list.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	20. Friday

Draco took the news that his eldest son wanted to get married in four days' time about as well as could be expected. It took several deep breaths, Dania and Ginny assuring him that they could pull off an excellent wedding in a short time if they all worked together, Scorpius and Albus' assurance that they _didn't_ need a perfect wedding, and Harry's accusation that he wasn't sure Draco could helm a full-scale Malfoy event in such limited time to get him entirely onboard. Within an hour, everyone had assignments – Ginny was off to arrange the pavilion and seating for the ceremony and reception; Harry was tasked with sending out very quick notes as invitations to all the family members and friends he could; Lily arranged for both Scorpius and Albus to be fitted for new dress robes that very night; and Dania was sent to fetch the best caterers in wizarding London and arrange tastings and assure them ample payment for working on such short notice.

"He's going to spend my entire inheritance in four days," Scorpius whispered to Albus as Draco dispatched people, having gone from exasperated to entirely in-charge in a record amount of time. They were watching Draco's manic list-making from the sitting room sofa, afraid to interfere. Albus watched Draco making notes and planning things out with his most ostentatious peacock quill. Orion, who had been unceremoniously seated on the table, was grabbing for it with his chubby hand as it moved.

Albus laughed, his arm tightening around Scorpius' waist. He hadn't stopped grinning all morning and his face was beginning to hurt, but he couldn't stop. He was too happy to function and too hyped with the developments of the morning to even need his regular cup of coffee.

"Why are you still looking at me like that?" Scorpius asked. Albus shrugged at him, unable to answer and unable to stop.

"I'm just really happy," Albus said quietly. It really didn't matter if the few people left in the room heard him – it was just Harry, Draco, Lily, James and Ainsley – but somehow, despite the involvement of both their entire families, it felt like a very private admission. He leaned into Scorpius to rest his chin atop his shoulder, breathing in the smell from the shampoo still on his damp hair.

Scorpius grinned at him. He didn't need to say that he was happy too – Albus could see the excitement that had been in his eyes since he'd woken, and it was contagious. Albus' family – who'd rushed over for breakfast at his request – had been ecstatic to see Scorpius and Ainsley well and on the mend and were more than willing to help facilitate a fast wedding. Even Draco, who'd clearly been stressed and blindsided by the idea of a wedding in four days, had kept most of his good mood – though he did keep looking at Orion and saying things like "don't you dare do something like this to me," and "by the time you're old enough to get married my heart won't be able to take it".

Ainsley fell into the empty space beside Scorpius, having extracted herself from James who was standing by, waiting for Draco to tell him what he could do to help.

"Are you feeling okay?" Ainsley asked Scorpius. It was obvious that she was feeling better – her face was flush with color and she was practically buzzing with energy.

"I'm still a bit more tired than I would normally be," Scorpius admitted, "but nothing like it was before. I'm sure I'll be a hundred percent in a day or so."

Ainsley beamed at him, bouncing in her seat.

"It's so exciting!" she cried, and Scorpius laughed at her until Draco came over to stand before them.

"Do we get assignments too?" Albus asked. "Since it's our wedding and all?"

"Yes," Draco said. He pointed to Ainsley and Scorpius. "You two are going to St. Mungo's for an exam."

Scorpius groaned and rolled his eyes. "We're _fine._ "

"And you can tell that to your healers," he said.

"Can we go get ice cream after?" Ainsley asked. Draco regarded her for a moment before nodding.

"That's an acceptable compromise."

"Excellent," she said, leaping to her feet. "Come on, James!"

Albus looked to his brother. He often didn't understand James but this morning he could fully appreciate how his brother felt. James had barely stopped smiling either, and when Ainsley called for him, his face lit up.

"No," Draco said to James. "You have to deal with the florist."

"But…" James seemed to be searching for an adequate protest as he looked between Ainsley and Draco. "But ice cream!"

"James, we all have jobs to do today," Draco said. James pouted at him and crossed his arms. Albus almost felt bad for him as Draco ushered Scorpius and Ainsley to their feet, taking a moment to fix Scorpius' collar before settling Orion back into his bassinet.

"Dania will be back in a moment," he told James. "She'll take Orion from there."

" _Fine,"_ James agreed, begrudgingly. He seemed somewhat appeased when Ainsley wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss Albus felt he had to look away from. He chose to pay attention to Scorpius and Draco instead as Scorpius assured his father for the tenth time that hour that he was _fine_.

"But if an exam will make you feel better, then I won't complain," Scorpius said.

"Thank you for humoring me," Draco said, and he clearly meant it. For a moment, he just smiled at Scorpius before ushering him to the fireplace and calling for Ainsley. Albus followed along happily, ready to take Scorpius' hand again at the first opportunity.

"Hey!" James cried. "Why does Albus get to go? It's his wedding!"

Albus looked to Draco, hoping he wouldn't be left behind. Nothing sounded worse than being separated from Scorpius right now _and_ having to deal with some nonsense like a florist.

"Albus and I have some important business to attend to in Diagon Alley," Draco said, settling the matter. Albus was relieved. "We won't be long."

Ainsley shot James an encouraging look before they each took a handful of Floo powder and made their way to St. Mungo's.

* * *

After Scorpius and Ainsley were both given a clean bill of health, they made their way to Diagon Alley where Albus was dismayed to find Draco _hadn't_ been lying about them having important business. They left Scorpius and Ainsley outside Flourish and Blotts with a promise to meet up at Florean Fortescue's in a half hour's time. Reluctantly, Albus released Scorpius' hand and followed Draco down the winding alley past the apothecary and Eeyelop's Owl Emporium.

"Where are we going?" Albus asked. He struggled a bit to keep up with Draco's long strides.

"We need to get something out of the vault at Gringotts," Draco said.

"Why couldn't Scorpius and Ainsley come?"

"You certainly do take after your father," Draco grumbled. "Always asking questions."

Albus sneered at the comparison, following Draco silently, his good mood dashed a bit. He stayed a step back while Draco talked to the goblin, who he seemed to be familiar with, offering his wand for identification and handing over a small silver key. He even held his tongue as they got into the rickety old cart, though he _hated_ going down into the caverns of the bank – he'd been frightened by his Uncle Ron's retelling of his escape from Gringotts via dragon with his father and Aunt Hermione as a child and had never quite gotten over his fear of the caves.

When they got out of the cart, Albus stepped out carefully. Though movement was easier now, his balance was no match for the slime that grew on the Gringotts floor. When he finally felt steady, he looked up and found they'd stopped directly in front of their destination.

"Used to be guarded by a dragon," Draco explained. "Until Granger outlawed it, of course."

The door of the Malfoy vault was just about as grand as expected. It was covered in silver and emerald details arranged into the Malfoy family crest. The banner beneath the 'M' still read 'Sanctimonia Vincet Semper,' and Albus didn't miss the way Draco's eyes lingered on the words with loathing. _Purity will always conquer_ wasn't a phrase Albus suspected he was particularly proud of.

"Need to get that altered," he grumbled as the goblin fitted the key into the lock, which Albus knew was enough to open the Potters' vault. Draco stepped forward and pressed his hand to the center of the crest, and only then did Albus hear the delicate tinkering of the locks sliding back.

The goblin eyed Albus with confusion as the door swung back, allowing them inside. He followed Draco in, and wasn't surprised to find that the room was both massive and well-arranged. Albus noticed a suspicious lack of knuts and sickles – he supposed the Malfoys had all their money kept in galleons to save space, or to keep the aesthetic of the vault which was predominantly gold and silver.

Draco nodded back to the goblin stationed by the door once they were well inside. "In recent memory only my mother, my father, Scorpius and myself have been in here," Draco explained. "I haven't wanted Dania to see the crest. I've petitioned to have the door replaced but there's all these _regulations._ My paperwork has been held up, I suppose."

"I'm a half-blood too, you know," Albus reminded him. Draco hardly looked over his shoulder at Albus as he walked further back into the vault, surveying the shelves that lined the walls all the way up to the high ceiling.

"Don't remind me," Draco said. "I still have nightmares about the ghost of my father emerging from the walls one day to throttle me."

Albus scoffed. He'd heard enough about Lucius Malfoy over the years to know he wouldn't have liked to meet him. He watched as Draco summoned the ladder, his eyes fixed on something on one of the higher shelves at the back of the room. Albus had tried not to think about the Malfoy vault too much. Though Scorpius had all the habits of someone who'd always been wealthy – an understanding of fancy clothes and an obliviousness to the trials of middle- and lower-class witches and wizards – he'd never been particularly haughty about it and had been happy to be corrected by some of their friends at Hogwarts when he didn't understand something. It was easy to forget that someday he'd inherit a massive fortune when the greatest pleasure in his life seemed to be a good meal and a new book.

"I'll have your name added to the accounts next week after the wedding, of course, and we'll remove my name from Scorpius' account and add yours," Draco said as he started climbing the ladder. "I'd do it today but the paperwork takes hours and they'll want to see the marriage certificate."

"Added?" Albus asked.

Draco paused and looked down at him. "You're marrying into this family the same way Scorpius is marrying into yours, Albus," he explained. Albus hadn't thought much about that at all – the implications of marrying a Malfoy. He hadn't even realized there was a separate vault for Scorpius at all. He'd just wanted to marry his best friend.

He watched silently as Draco reached into a gilded box. He expected him to withdraw something grand – some golden family heirloom that was worth more than Albus' life – but instead saw Draco pull out a small black velvet pouch before climbing down.

"Your father and I had a talk this morning," Draco said. "We both wanted to find a way to incorporate lost loved ones on each side of your families into the wedding if you'd agree."

Draco jumped off the last two steps and walked over to Albus, untying the pouch and tipping its contents into his hand.

"We're not expecting you to wear these your whole lives – replace them immediately with matching ones if you want so these don't get lost - and I'm not entirely sure what Harry's got for Scorpius to be honest, so don't ask. We didn't get to talk very long. But if you're willing to humor an old man, this is the ring I'd like you to give Scorpius on Friday."

Albus looked down into Draco's outstretched palm to see a standard silver band. He took it and looked it over and saw an inscription on the inside that was so small he had to squint to read it.

' _My light in the darkness.'_

Albus looked up at Draco, confused, and saw that he looked very serious.

"That's the ring Astoria gave me at our wedding," Draco explained. His voice was thick with emotion, but he didn't look or sound sad. Albus understood the importance of this moment – Draco wasn't just letting him marry his son without protest – he was embracing it and offering Albus something very important – a Malfoy family heirloom and a true place in his family.

"I'll guard it with my life," Albus said. The phrase was trite, but he meant it. He slid the ring carefully back into its pouch and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"I'd tell you that I'd rather have you guard _him_ with your life but I've already seen you do that more than once," Draco said thickly.

Albus followed him from the vault, feeling rather proud of himself. That was likely the closest thing to Draco saying he loved him that Albus was going to get for the rest of his life. He decided to take the win in silence and with grace.

* * *

Though the day had been full of happiness and family, the most exciting moment since Scorpius had woken up was surely arriving back at his and Albus' home after nearly two weeks of staying at the manor. He crouched down upon stepping out of the fireplace and let Zar (who had been dropped off by Harry earlier in the day) tackle him to the ground and lick his face furiously – something Albus had stopped him from doing weeks ago when the dog had accidentally scratched Scorpius' arm (Albus had been furious and Scorpius had to make him apologize to the dog).

"Gagh!" Scorpius cried, content to let Zar do his worst. He sprawled out on the carpet, letting the dog tire himself out and wasn't able to look up until Zar, content, lay down at his side and nuzzled his hand. Scorpius scratched behind his ears and looked around to see Albus standing near his feet, his arms folded and a smile back on his face.

"What?" Scorpius asked. Albus just shook his head and watched Zar roll onto his back, tongue lolling and tail wagging.

"Nothing," Albus said. "Just very impressed by the events of the day."

"Which of them was the most impressive?" Scorpius asked. Albus tossed his things onto the couch and made his way towards the kitchen.

"I'm not sure. It's between Lily making time to fit us for dress robes herself, my mother already having everything for the reception lined up, finally getting to write to Ogderel and tell her you were doing better, or you miraculously being better this morning," he said. Scorpius sat up at the sound of Albus rummaging around in the pantry.

"Are you sure it wasn't my father _not_ throwing a fit when we told him, or when Ainsley and James came back with ten cake samples?"

"Don't remind me. I'm going to have dreams about that chocolate raspberry cake," Albus said, re-emerging with an armful of ingredients for dinner. Since they hadn't been here for days Scorpius wasn't expecting much, but clearly Pokey or Pike had restocked their refrigerator and pantry sometime during the hectic day, because Albus seemed to have most of what he need to whip up a quick pasta sauce. Scorpius watched fondly as he rubbed his hands together, surveying his options.

"An Albus-cooked dinner!" Scorpius said, excited. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"Not dying, for starters," Albus muttered.

Scorpius watched in silence as Albus started browning some ground beef in a pan. Watching Albus cook was mesmerizing – it was something Scorpius had never seen either of his parents do and it was something so uniquely Albus and entirely Potter that it still made Scorpius feel warm inside when he watched Albus move about the kitchen, entirely at ease.

Scorpius got to his feet quietly and took a moment to marvel at how painless movement was now when just yesterday he'd been winded by standing up. He understood now why Albus was so frustrated with the pain from the curse he'd incurred at seventeen and why he'd been willing to endure painful treatments to regain some movement.

He watched Albus in his element for a moment longer before pulling himself up onto the counter beside the stove. Albus smiled warmly at him, using his wand to charm the cans of tomatoes open. They poured themselves into a pot already on a heating burner.

"Tell me the truth," Albus implored. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm pretty tired," Scorpius admitted. "I think I would have been tired even if it hadn't been a terribly long day."

"Regretting the quickie wedding idea?" Albus asked. He smirked. "You can't even blame me for it."

"Oh, I do blame you," Scorpius laughed. Some of Albus' attention was occupied by dinner, so he had to settle for smoothing his hair down when Albus moved close enough and rubbing his shoulder. "All that proposing. It was terribly difficult to keep saying no. I was bound to break down eventually."

Albus only smiled, summoning a wooden spoon from the rack behind him and charming it to stir the sauce as he transferred the beef into the pot. Scorpius thought of the promise he'd made Harry.

"I would have," Scorpius continued. "If it hadn't worked – if Ainsley had gotten better and I didn't. I wouldn't have wanted to be buried as anything other than Scorpius Malfoy-Potter."

Albus' smile faltered as he set the pan back down on the stove.

"I know you wouldn't have," Albus said, moving to stand in front of Scorpius. He leaned into Scorpius' knees and rested his hands against his hips. The frantic, excited energy of the day had ebbed away now that they were home, and Scorpius was grateful to be back here, in their kitchen, watching Albus the way he hoped he would for a very long time.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Scorpius said, taking one of Albus' hands in both his own. "You've been… I don't even know how to describe it."

"Is Malfoy the Loquacious at a loss for words?" Albus teased. Scorpius kissed the back of his hand and held it close to his chest for a long moment as he tried and failed to find the words to tell Albus how grateful he was, but there weren't words big enough.

Albus, as always, understood. He stood on his toes and pressed his lips to Scorpius', giving his side a gentle squeeze.

"I know," Albus assured him before letting go and getting back to work, and Scorpius was content to know that he did.

After a (thankfully) quiet dinner and a bit of time spent watching television (Albus' desire to catch up on a terribly violent medieval show was a poorly disguised excuse to cuddle, Scorpius thought), Scorpius found himself back in his own bed with its familiar-smelling linens and the familiar warmth of Albus at his side. After weeks of Albus being protective and sheltering, Scorpius immediately seized the opportunity to be the big spoon – something he regarded as one of the greater joys in life. He wrapped his arms around Albus' waist, content to have his circulation cut off in minutes if it meant being just a bit closer. He buried his face against the nape of Albus' neck, his heart full and his body blessedly pain-free.

"Five kids, huh?" Albus asked after a few moments of silence.

"Still thinking about that?" Scorpius chuckled.

"I'd been thinking three," Albus confessed. "But I'm open to change."

"We might find out two is plenty," Scorpius said. "You never know."

"I know one thing."

"What's that?"

Albus looked over his shoulder at Scorpius, scowling.

"Our parents can have _absolutely_ no input in the kids' names. At all."

"I thought that went without saying, _Albus Severus_."

"Just clarifying, _Scorpius Hyperion_."

"Ugh."

* * *

The days that followed were a blur of planning, laughing, and talking with family and friends. Albus and Scorpius had conditioned themselves long ago to rely on only one another, but watching their families merge to make a last-minute wedding the best it could be was nothing short of inspirational, especially when Scorpius had the distinct pleasure of watching Harry Potter himself select dress robes for his wife and sister in-law who were both too busy to do so themselves.

"No, no, Hermione would hate that," Harry said, pointing at the catalogue settled on the table between himself and Lily. "She hates anything that's too short – she's very touchy about her legs."

Lily watched him with a droll stare as he flipped through the pages, critiquing the designs one-by-one.

"How about this one for mum?" Lily asked. Though she no longer worked directly for Madam Malkin, she still represented the company and had been granted access to any resources she needed as a favor. As Scorpius watched from the side with Rose, he suspected she was regretting her decision to handle this herself.

"Merlin, no," Harry said, looking at her as if she were mad. "She hates that color, Lily."

"Thank Dumbledore I already have some," Rose whispered, taking a sip of her tea.

"She took mine and Albus' measurements yesterday and said she was choosing for us," Scorpius told her. "We didn't want to go through this part."

Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The small chairs at the corner tea-table weren't the best, but Scorpius suspected it wasn't the seating that had her looking so awkward.

"What's wrong?"

Rose sighed, pushing her red curls back from her face and tying them back into a ponytail – something she did when she was frustrated. Scorpius sipped his tea, expectant.

"The press is being kept out, right?"

"Mr. Potter is handling it himself," Scorpius confirmed. "Why?"

"I'm not going to scrounge up a date, then," Rose said.

"I thought you were dating that bloke from the Cannons!" Scorpius cried. "I saw it in the paper three days ago! You were smiling in the photograph!"

"Was that the picture from the British League Quidditch awards ceremony?" she asked bitterly. Scorpius nodded. "Yeah, I was having fun. We dated for about a month and a half and it was really nice. I thought it was going somewhere, but then he decided he wanted someone more… what was the word he said?" Rose thought for a moment, tapping her chin with a painted red nail. "Oh, he said he wanted someone more 'kind and submissive'."

He choked on his tea. "He _said_ that?" Scorpius cried. Rose nodded. "To your _face_?" She nodded again.

Scorpius searched the room until he saw Albus, who appeared to be in deep conversation with Draco and James. He looked irritated, so Scorpius called for him.

"Al! Albus, come here!"

Albus looked relieved to have a reason to leave his brother and Draco at the table, bent over a massive seating chart and a pile of RSVPs that had flooded in throughout the day. Albus walked over to them, his hands smudged with ink.

"We should have eloped," he said.

Scorpius relayed what Rose had told him while she rested her chin in her hand, looking properly bummed. Albus was aghast.

" _Kind_ and _submissive_? You have got to be kidding me," he said. Rose shrugged. "You're not unkind. I mean, you might have been as a kid for a bit, but you got over it!"

Scorpius wanted to note that this wasn't really the time to be pointing out Rose's childhood faults, but Rose just shrugged.

"Thanks, I guess," she said.

"And who the hell wants someone submissive?" Albus asked. "Unless he was talking about behind-closed-doors things, in which case, to each their own –"

"No, he meant in life," Rose said. "Like, a woman who's there to tell him how great he is even when he's awful and stand in his shadow or whatever."

Albus paused thoughtfully. "Where do you want the body buried?"

Rose gave an empty laugh, but Scorpius wasn't sure Albus didn't mean it, and with his strong arms crossed across his chest that way, Scorpius wasn't sure he couldn't take down a professional Quidditch player with minimal assistance. He had, apparently, dueled Daphne Greengrass at seventeen _and_ made it out of a cage with two fully grown, nesting Chimaeras. Albus wasn't to be trifled with. Scorpius found that far too attractive.

"That won't be necessary," Rose said gloomily. "But thanks for the offer. I'm just a bit down, is all. I'm glad you're keeping the press out – maybe I can actually enjoy something social for once."

"Exactly!" Scorpius said, getting to his feet. "Everyone you know and like will be there, and the food promises to be spectacular. We'll be at the Burrow and there will be music and dancing –"

He took Rose's hand and pulled her to her feet, engaging her in an exaggerated waltz that, at least, had her smiling. He whirled her around.

"Either Albus or I will cry," Scorpius said. "It's likely we both will, and my father will certainly sob, so that should be entertaining."

Rose started laughing, which was all Scorpius had really wanted. He was glad she'd become friendlier after their fifth year at Hogwarts. Though he and Albus didn't see her all the time, she had been a good, steady presence over the years, and he appreciated that she no longer held his childhood crush on her against him (that Lily did on occasion was an entirely different matter).

He released her and bowed. He caught Albus' eye over the top of her head, and saw a strange look on his face caught somewhere between happiness, wistfulness, and worry.

"Everything ok?" Scorpius asked. He'd been so happy moments before, and Scorpius didn't want him to be sad at all.

"Everything's fine," Albus said with a smile that seemed just a bit forced.

* * *

"Dad? _Dad?_ Mum, wake up!"

Albus shook both his parents' shoulders, hovering over their bed in a panic. Harry jerked awake, and Albus had no idea how he'd gotten his wand in his hand so very fast, but within a second the room was alight from a silent 'lumos' and Harry was looking up at him, wide-eyed and alert.

"Merlin's beard, Albus!" he yelled.

Ginny, only a bit more disoriented than her husband, rubbed her eyes and sat up beside him. "What happened?" she asked. She grabbed her watch from the table. "It's two o'clock in the morning, Albus. Someone better be dead or you will be."

Before Albus could assure that everyone was alive and well, Harry had his hands on Albus' arms, grasping them tight so Albus half-fell onto their bed.

"Has someone died?" Harry asked quickly. "Is Scorpius still okay?"

"Scorpius is fine," Albus said, prying his father's fingers from where they dug into his biceps. "Everyone is fine, but I have a problem and Scorpius can't know about it and he just now went to sleep."

"What the bloody hell were you doing up until two?" Ginny asked.

"Reading," Albus responded quickly, but he knew the color rising in his face and the very bold bite mark on his neck gave away that reading had been the farthest thing from their minds. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What problem can't Scorpius know about?" Harry asked, smoothing over his son's awkwardness.

"I can't dance," Albus hissed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Albus," Ginny said, throwing herself back down onto her pillow.

"Mum! The wedding is the day after tomorrow!" he cried earnestly. She had to understand how important this was. "I meant to learn as soon as I got back from Brazil since my leg was so much better, but everything else happened and I kind of forgot and now I _need to know_."

"Why don't you just have Scorpius teach you?" Harry asked. "Surely he knows you can't dance."

"I might have told him I could a while ago," Albus said, picking at the edge of their dislodged quilt – one of Molly's many presents through the years. This one was made of their old Hogwarts and Quidditch uniforms – a storm of red and gold and bits of the words 'Potter' and 'Weasley.' "I didn't think it was going to matter much. At the time I didn't think my leg was going to heal enough."

"Good start for a marriage, Al," Ginny grumbled.

Harry looked over at her. Albus wanted to ask him to lower his wand since the light was near-blinding, but he suspected that might have been too much to ask given that he'd woken them in the middle of the night. Perhaps this had been a stupid idea after all…

"You're the mum," Harry said, amusement rising in his voice. "Isn't it your job to teach him?"

"Actually," Ginny said, rolling over and grinning up at her husband. She seemed to suddenly find this quite funny. "Scorpius was taught as a child, correct?"

Albus nodded.

"Well, he would have only been taught to lead, since his teacher was no doubt expecting him to be dancing with only proper young pureblood girls who were taught only to follow," Ginny explained. "That makes _you_ the one who has to teach him."

Harry groaned as she pointed at him, and looked at Albus. He was aware his panic was disproportionate to the problem, especially given everything he and Scorpius had faced recently. Surely Scorpius wouldn't care if their first dance wasn't perfect and proper, but Albus couldn't help feeling it would be a failure on his part if he couldn't give him at least that one piece of a proper wedding.

Harry sighed, sensing his son's internal crisis. "Damn."

* * *

Scorpius was a bit dismayed at Albus' exhaustion at their pre-wedding dinner – a rather disorganized affair thrown together in the Malfoy Manor's formal dining room, which didn't look formal at all with the chairs drawn away from the long mahogany table, which was now buried under a mess of finger foods, sandwiches, and an entirely unnecessary cake because Dania had quite liked the lemon cake they'd sampled a few days prior, and Draco's extravagance knew no limitations.

Scorpius was just surveying the room and feeling quite happy with so many people he loved in one place when Albus yawned for the fifth time that hour as he dug into his second piece of cake. Scorpius eyed him, worried that regret was starting to settle in and he was seeing stress instead of tiredness.

"Are you sure you're okay, Al?" Scorpius asked for the fourth time that hour.

"I'm fine," Albus said with an encouraging smile. "I promise. It's just been a long few days."

Scorpius was nearly too afraid to ask, but he choked out the question anyway. "You're not… having second thoughts, are you?"

Albus' eyes widened. "Of course not."

Scorpius eyed him skeptically, setting his plate down on the table. "Are you sure?"

He never found out if Albus was sure or not, because Harry unwittingly interrupted.

"Having fun, boys?" he asked.

"It's great," Albus said through a mouthful of cake. Normally, Scorpius would have rolled his eyes at such a lack of manners, but he found it impossible right now to find anything about Albus less than perfect. He wondered if everyone felt this way before their weddings…

"I was wondering if I could borrow Scorpius for a moment," Harry said. Albus didn't seem particularly pleased with the idea, but he nodded regardless. Scorpius reluctantly let Harry lead him out towards the atrium.

"Why are you limping?" he asked as they exited the noise of the dining room. Harry glanced down at his right foot as though displeased with it.

"Some idiot stepped on my foot early this morning," Harry said. "You know, at work. No big deal."

Scorpius sensed there was more to the story, but didn't ask. Harry was often embarrassed by people's reactions to meeting the Great Harry Potter, so he didn't press the matter. The last thing he wanted was for his future father in-law to be terse with him right before his wedding. Certainly that was a bad omen.

"Is everything okay?" Scorpius once they were safely away from the noise and Harry stopped walking.

"Everything's fine," Harry assured him. "I just needed to talk to you. First, I owe you an apology."

Scorpius frowned at him. "For what?"

"For making you promise you'd marry Albus. It was uncalled for," Harry said. "It wasn't fair. I was just so worried about my son's wellbeing that I didn't consider much else."

"It's okay," Scorpius assured him quickly. "Really. I understood completely. And… well, I would have, if it had come to that, promise or not."

Harry smiled and shook his head, digging into his pocket. "You really are one of the most forgiving people I've ever met, Scorpius."

"Well, I've spent a lot of time around several good role models for forgiveness," Scorpius explained. "You included."

Harry paused, clutching something in his hand. He regarded Scorpius for a moment before giving a small sigh and holding out his hand. The words ‘I must not tell lies’ stood out in great contrast on the back of his hand, which showed his age far more than his face did. After an awkward second of confusion, Scorpius realized he was supposed to take whatever was in Harry's hand and extended his palm.

He dropped a simple gold band into Scorpius' hand.

"Mr. Potter, Albus said he already had them –"

"Probably because your father already talked to him," Harry explained, his voice oddly thick and heavy. He nodded to Scorpius' hand, swallowing hard as if to clear a lump in his throat. "Remus Lupin, by virtue of being my parents' only friend not in prison or on the run after their deaths, did a few things that he knew I'd appreciate later as an adult. One of them was put my parents' wedding rings in the Potters' vault at Gringotts."

Scorpius' eyes widened. "Is this…?"

"My dad's? Yeah."

Scorpius held the ring up to the light, surveying it. There wasn't anything remarkable about it, really. It was simple, and it looked just like the one he'd always seen Harry wearing.

"No one expects you to wear them forever, but your dad and I talked the other day and we hoped you and Albus would humor us. I wanted a bit of my parents to be there with Albus and this was the best thing I could think of."

He looked at Scorpius, uncertain that this was the right thing to do, and Scorpius looked up at him in awe and with a sense of foreboding. He knew precisely what Draco had given Albus.

"I think Albus will really appreciate it, Mr. Potter," Scorpius said, straightening up.

"Harry," he corrected. He'd corrected Scorpius probably a hundred times since he and Albus had begun dating, but it never seemed to catch on.

"I don't think I'll get used to that," Scorpius said, straightening his glasses just to have something to do with his hands.

"You're going to have to," Harry said. Scorpius tucked the ring into the pocket of his waistcoat as they started back towards the dining room. Harry lay an arm across his shoulders, and Scorpius beamed at him.

"After all," Harry said, "we are family."

* * *

It was late. Very late. So late that Scorpius wondered if they all ought to go home and get some sleep – they were going to have a long day tomorrow after all, but everyone was laughing and having a good time. Even Rose seemed to be enjoying herself, and it didn't seem she did that too often these days off the Quidditch pitch. Of course, it was hard for her _not_ to be enjoying herself with so much champagne and so many jokes being told at her cousin's expense. Scorpius suspected he'd be blushing for days at Ainsley and James' unexpected joint inquiry about whether or not Scorpius and Albus were _really_ ready to commit to having sex with only one person for the rest of their lives, and Albus' very loud, somewhat-drunken response that put a stop to the good-natured ribbing – "Only someone who's never slept with Scorpius Malfoy would ask that question."

Now, a few more drinks in and without any more embarrassing questions, Scorpius felt quite pliant and quiet and was content to sit still for a moment.

"Scorp?" Albus said. He pointed down the table where everyone was seated now that some of the food was gone and the chairs had been replaced. He was lightheaded from drinking champagne, but not nearly as lightheaded as Albus, who had been sitting beside him with his temple resting against his palm, smiling and alternating between watching Scorpius and observing his family for the last twenty minutes. Occasionally, someone would approach them and ask if they were excited, and Albus' responses were becoming increasingly dramatic and exaggerated.

Scorpius turned at the sound of his name. He'd been watching Lily and Hugo's theatrical duel with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes fake wands, thoroughly entertained by the show until Albus broke his concentration.

"Hmm?"

"I left my wand upstairs. Can you pass me the water?"

Scorpius didn't have his wand either, but the Malfoy's crystalline water pitcher was only about six seats away, and he realized he hadn't tested his abilities since the curse had been broken. Just the thought had his head aching, but he knew he had to try.

Scorpius held out his hand. The pitcher quivered at the other end of the table, but didn't move.

_Odd_ , Scorpius thought. He looked at his hand. There wasn't any pain, nor was there the gentle buzzing of magic he'd become used to.

Again, he held out his hand. The pitcher inched towards him, its movements jerky and staggered, and he tried to pull the magic together to smooth it out, but everything felt fragmented and broken.

"Are you okay?" Albus asked.

"I don't think I can do it anymore," Scorpius said. When the pitcher was close enough he reached across Dania and grabbed it, handing it over to Albus. "Or I need to re-learn."

Albus gave him a sleepy smile and ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck. "You can re-learn on our honeymoon."

Scorpius agreed – the cabin Hermione had arranged for them on the outskirts of a wizarding village in Lofoten, Norway would be the perfect secluded place for him to practice again and clear his mind – but still, now that he knew the current had been interrupted, he felt as if a sense had been cut off.

"Strange," Scorpius said. "If it is gone, I'll miss it."

"I'll certainly miss the heated-hand massages," Albus smirked, sloppily pouring water into his glass.

"Then I'll just have to figure it out."

Albus leaned across his chair and turned his face into Scorpius' shoulder. His head rested heavily there, and Scorpius knew he was threatening to fall asleep when Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur approached. Molly set her hand atop Albus' head.

"Al? Sweetie, it's been a long day," she said as he blinked up at her. "I think it's time you went home."

"I agree," Scorpius said, disentangling himself and pushing his chair back. Molly gave him a puzzled look.

"Where do you think you're going?" Molly asked. Arthur chuckled at her side and muttered something that sounded like 'here we go.'

"Pardon?"

"It's bad luck for you two to see each other tomorrow before the ceremony," Molly said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Gran, that only counts if you're not letting the groom see the bride in her dress," Albus said, exasperated and rubbing his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, there's no bride here."

"It's still bad luck, Albus," Molly protested. "You're coming back to your parents' house tonight with us."

Arthur, who had thus far seemed quite amused, perked up. "Your father and I are making waffles the muggle way in the morning! With a waffle roast!"

"I think it's called a 'waffle iron', Grandpa Arthur," Scorpius corrected.

"Yes, yes, that."

"But I want waffles," Scorpius said, pouting. He didn't like the idea of being separated from Albus, even for the night. They never slept in separate beds if they could help it, and on the eve of their wedding…

"It's a Weasley family tradition," Molly explained. "I've already been robbed of ensuring you were getting married under the right astral conditions, and it's pointless to do the traditional fertility spells the Prewetts normally did over a couple on the eve of their wedding. At least give me this, Albus."

At the mention of the Prewetts, Albus sighed and hung his head, and Scorpius knew the battle was lost.

"I know," he muttered. "I was hoping you'd forgotten."

 "She doesn't forget anything, Al," Arthur said. "You should know that."

Albus gave Scorpius an apologetic look, and Scorpius tried to smile for him.

"Sorry," Albus muttered. "It's _tradition_. She did this to my mum and dad even though mum was already pregnant with James."

"It's okay," Scorpius assured him. "It'll be good for me to spend the night here and be with my dad in the morning."

"That's the spirit," Molly said before tugging on Albus' shirt. Scorpius noticed everyone was starting to break up, standing and gathering their things. A few minutes ago he'd been itching to bail, but now that he knew Albus was leaving without him, Scorpius was quite reluctant.

Still, he stood up with Albus and walked with him and most of his family to the sitting room where, one by one they Floo'd home, each hugging them goodbye and offering well-wishes for a good night's sleep with varying degrees of suggestiveness when they added "you're going to need it."

Finally, when only Draco, Ginny, Harry and Albus were left, Scorpius let himself be pulled down into a tight hug by Albus. He buried his face in Albus' neck, breathing in his scent as his 'boyfriend' and 'fiancé' for the very last time as he did.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Albus muttered in his ear, unrelenting as he held Scorpius in place with his hand on the back of Scorpius' head. For weeks Albus had been tentative and careful with his hugs, and Scorpius was still happy to have returned to the strong, enveloping embraces he was used to.

"You better," Scorpius whispered back. He restrained himself to a brief, mostly-chaste kiss with Albus' parents and his father still in the room. It was insufficient, but Scorpius knew there would be time later. There would be so much time later.

"Let's go, Al," Ginny said kindly. "You look like you're dead on your feet."

"Nuh uh," Albus said, but the great yawn that followed didn't help make his point. Scorpius couldn't help smiling at him. Sleepy-Albus was one of his favorite things to see.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Scorpius," Harry assured him, and they ushered Albus through the Floo and were gone a moment later.

"Molly was insistent," Draco said once they were gone. "I couldn't even bear to argue with her – she was still a bit upset from someone mentioning Fred."

"She normally handles that pretty well these days," Scorpius said, surprised.

Draco shrugged. "I think she's always had a soft spot for Albus. She might just be emotional at the idea of him getting married."

Scorpius gave him a withering look.

"Hey," Draco said, holding his hands up in submission. "I didn't say I was handling it any better where you're concerned."

"Well, at least you're not lying to yourself."

Scorpius turned at the sound of footsteps behind them. He hadn't noticed that the Minister of Magic had hung back, but judging from the way she was rubbing her hands together, she'd been in the wash room.

"Draco, you've got to tell me where the soap and lotion are from," Hermione said. "It smells lovely."

For some reason, Draco seemed quite pleased at this statement. Hermione rarely seemed comfortable at the Manor, but endured it out of love for her family, specifically Albus, so Scorpius and Draco always tried to make her feel as welcome as possible.

"I'll have some sent to your office next week," Draco offered.

Scorpius expected Draco would send her an entire gift basket of items from the Parisian apothecary instead of just the soap.

"I was wondering if I could have a moment, Scorpius," Hermione said. He swallowed hard. Albus' aunt or not, Hermione Granger was still the Minister of Magic and Scorpius often found her a bit intimidating – she was always in-command and cool-headed, even when addressing her family and he admired her greatly, but even out of her formal robes and in jeans and a violet t-shirt, he still found her to be a bit larger than life.

"Of course," he said. She, like Harry, had often told him to address her by her first name, but sometimes it felt disrespectful (he never shook off some of his childhood etiquette teachings no matter how hard he tried), so he avoided it entirely.

Draco left to go check on the kitchens and make sure everything was ready for what promised to be an intense day tomorrow, and Scorpius was left quite alone with the most powerful person in wizarding Britain. He realized he'd never actually spent time alone with her before.

"I've arranged your portkey for Saturday afternoon," she told him. "Straight to Norway – no connections."

"Thank you," Scorpius said earnestly. She looked at him for a moment, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed into a hard line. "Are you here to threaten my life? You know – 'hurt Albus and feel the wrath of the ministry' – that sort of thing?"

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No, not at all."

She moved over to the sofa and sat before the fire, gesturing for Scorpius to follow. He was confused, but did as he was told, and waited for her to explain.

"I've been thinking ever since you and James told us about your travels," she said. "The kind of research you did was intensive. Only some of the most skilled wizarding scholars could have done it, and you managed it under duress and when it was of very personal interest. It was very impressive. Even the archive director thought so."

"Really? Because she fired me pretty swiftly."

"She had to. You did break the law and you would have been facing charges if you weren't essentially a Potter."

Scorpius looked down, feeling quite sheepish.

"However, even Director Bagshot understood why you did it. We had a long talk a few weeks ago about the archives and the kind of historical information you had to deal with. It's entirely unacceptable that there was a treatment for your family's affliction sitting in the basement this entire time."

"No one knew," Scorpius said. It had taken him weeks to come to terms with himself, and he didn't want to be questioning it now. "It had never been translated."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "I'm thinking that it's time for an international initiative to share information in the wizarding world. We can't have computers in the ministry, of course, but it would be a good idea for there to be a collection that all healers and historians can access – much like the muggle internet – all digital."

"How would it even be maintained by wizards, then?" Scorpius asked.

"Squibs who don't want to leave the world they were born into need jobs," Hermione explained. "Jobs better than apothecary assistants and creature minders. Muggles who learned about our world through marriage or family members who would rather work here need positions too, and we could limit magical contact with the actual technology."

Scorpius thought about it – the implications of better communication and information sharing amongst wizards worldwide. He'd had limited exposure to the muggle internet himself – Albus and his siblings had learned to use computers at Harry's insistence as children in case of an emergency that left them stranded in the muggle world (a direct result of Harry's experiences immediately before Voldemort's downfall, Albus had said). He couldn't deny the idea had merit.

"Can you imagine?" Hermione asked. "Being able to share that much information worldwide? And eventually an international index of artefacts and books?"

"It does sound wonderful," Scorpius agreed. "But it would take decades to put together."

"It would have to be organized by someone young," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Probably at the beginning of their career. And someone exceptionally bright and good at communicating."

"Are you thinking of James?" Scorpius asked. "I know he's still trying to figure out what to do next. He'd probably be open to the idea –"

"No, not James."

Hermione stared at him, intent and focused, and Scorpius' eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh, no."

"You'd be perfect for it, Scorpius," Hermione said. "Even Director Bagshot agrees. So does Harry."

"You spoke with _Harry_ about this?" Scorpius asked, indignant and all pretense of manners forgotten.

"Harry and I discuss nearly every decision we have to make at work," Hermione said. "We trust each other's judgment, and I really do think you'd be a good head of this department. There would be a lot of guidance in the beginning, of course."

Scorpius stared at her, trying to see past the Minister for Magic he'd seen on the front page of The Daily Prophet long before he met her to the Aunt Hermione Albus had told him stories about. Even when she was annoying she was brilliant and sure of herself. Aunt Hermione was confident in her decisions and she was a strong judge of character.

"Think about it. You’ve got a lot going on, but I did want to discuss it with you before you started evaluating your options. Think about it while you're on vacation and talk to… well, talk to your husband."

Scorpius couldn't hold back his grin at the word 'husband.' It was the first time anyone had referred to Albus that way and he felt a surge of happiness and longing. Scorpius already missed him.

"My husband…" Scorpius repeated. "Yeah, I'll um…I'll think about it. I'm not sure I'll be able to stop thinking about it."

"Excellent," Hermione said. She seemed confident, as if she'd convinced Scorpius already as she got to her feet. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow evening, Mr. Malfoy."

"Malfoy-Potter," he corrected, beaming. Hermione laughed, pushing a few unruly locks of her hair behind her ears and reaching for the Floo powder.

"That's right," she said. "Malfoy-Potter."

Scorpius bid her a good night and she left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Scorpius' mind was reeling from her offer. He wasn't sure he was ready to be head of a department. Right now, he didn't feel ready for much of anything beyond going to bed.

No, Scorpius thought. He wasn't in any position to make big decisions right now, and Hermione (he wondered if he'd start calling her _Aunt_ Hermione. Or _Aunt_ Minister) didn't seem to expect an answer anytime soon. He had a few weeks to consider it and mull things over… talk to his _husband_ …

With that word lingering in his mind, Scorpius smiled through a yawn and started making his way up the stairs to bed.

* * *

"Why the fuck am I wearing a waistcoat?" Albus asked his sister as she made last-minute adjustments to his clothing in his childhood bedroom. He wanted to remove it – to take off anything that came in contact with his stomach as he was feeling quite nauseated.

"Because you had the brilliant idea to marry a wealthy pureblood boy who's drama-king father would have me hung if I didn't have you both dressed properly," Lily said, buttoning the last button. She tugged the emerald waistcoat into place, adjusted Albus' tie, assured his somewhat-tamed hair was still in place and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

 "These clothes look great on you," Lily said, folding her arms. She'd changed into her long turquoise dress early so she could ensure everyone else was properly dressed and styled. "Truly. And I say this as your sister who loves you – your ass looks great in those trousers."

"You think?" Albus asked, twisting around in front of the mirror.

"Scorpius did specifically request that you get decent trousers," Lily said. "I'm assuming that's what he meant."

"It is," Albus said, blushing. "He'd probably be happier if I were wearing my Quidditch uniform."

He examined himself in the mirror. It was so rare that he got dressed up more than trading his work shirts and t-shirts in for a button up and a pair of jeans that wasn't ripped somewhere. He barely recognized himself with his hair pushed back and most of his scars covered. "I'm surprised he didn't have you put me in a tank top so my tattoo was visible."

Lily chuckled. "Albus, I think you could show up in a chicken suit and he'd still be happy to marry you."

Albus tugged at his uncomfortable bowtie, fidgeting with it until it was a bit looser. "Do we have a comfortable chicken suit available?"

"Sadly, no," Lily said. "But I do think Uncle George has a monkey costume somewhere."

Albus forced a laugh, tugging his sleeves into place. Lily slapped his hands away for the fifth time.

"Stop fidgeting," she said. "You're worse than Scorpius."

"Am not," Albus protested. "He fidgets in his sleep."

"I believe it," Lily said.

There was a soft knock on Albus' door and the door creaked open.

"Can I come in?" came Harry's uncertain voice.

"Yeah, I'm dressed," Albus said. Harry came in, already in his formal black dress robes with Zar trotting in afterwards as if he too needed a word with Albus. Harry, unlike Albus, hadn't spent quite as much time trying to tame his hair and had instead just tried to arrange it to cover his scar – an enterprise Albus thought was quite pointless. He was just beginning to wonder why they'd all bothered with dress robes at all – they weren't strictly necessary for people taking vows. There was no law that said they had to be uncomfortable…

"Ah," Lily muttered after a brief silence. "Dad needs to talk to his little boy before he runs off and gets married, right?"

Harry gave her a reluctant thumbs-up and Lily took her cue to leave. She kissed Albus' cheek and slipped past their father, shutting Albus and Harry in the small room as Zar leaped up onto the bed behind Albus. Harry looked around as Albus scratched behind the dog's ears. The walls were still covered in Quidditch posters and Slytherin paraphernalia from his Hogwarts days. Harry looked around at them for a moment before looking down at Albus, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes."

"Is your leg okay? Because taking a pain potion for a day isn't the end of the world, Albus –"

"No, I'm fine," Albus said with a cringe. He could nearly taste the bitterness of those potions on his tongue. He hadn't taken one for over a year and had no intention of tempting himself now.

"You have the ring Draco –"

Albus cut him off. When his father was uncomfortable, the rambling could go on forever, and he really needed to get back to feeling so anxious he might vomit.

"Dad? What's up?"

Harry sighed, looking just past Albus at the wall where a vintage poster of Edric Vosper – a long-forgotten Chaser for the England National Quidditch team – was still tacked to the wall next to a sun-faded Slytherin banner Albus had picked up at a second-hand shop following his first year at Hogwarts out of spite.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Harry said. "I remember being quite nervous before I married your mother. It was a long time ago and I can still remember the headache."

"The way Ron tells it you threw up in the bushes outside the church."

"Well, he kept giving me firewhiskey," Harry explained. "He thought it would help."

"Well, I don't have a best man to give me firewhiskey," Albus said. They'd decided to forego so many traditions in name of expediency, but since Albus was marrying his best friend, he didn't really have anyone to stand beside him anyway.

"I also wanted to let you know that… well, I'm sure Draco told you about the ring he gave you, right?"

Albus nodded, hoping his father would get to the point soon. It didn't seem he would be needing firewhiskey at all.

"Well, I gave Scorpius your ring last night, and I wanted you to know where it came from."

Albus had expected he was receiving some Weasley family heirloom – something handed down and worn by generations of redheads he wouldn't fit in with, though he knew the ring would have been given with love.

"It was my dad's," Harry explained, and Albus' eyes snapped up to him. He thought instantly of Godric's Hollow, of the hours spent watching the Potters' house from the window of St. Jerome's Church – how James had moved through the house, window to window, sometimes with Harry cradled safely in his arms, others with Lily at his side. He thought of his granddad and how three generations of Potters had the same messy dark hair and knobby knees.

"How?"

"I didn't go through the vault at Gringotts until after Hogwarts – not entirely. Turns out, Remus Lupin had put my parents' wedding rings, my dad's watch, and my mum's necklace in a box at the back with a little note. He must have given it to the goblins before he took off after their funeral."

Albus imagined a man who looked a lot like Teddy handing over a small box of his best friends' valuables after having his entire life rent apart and suddenly felt the urge to find and hug his godbrother.

"S-shouldn't that go to James? Namesake, eldest son and all that?" Albus shifted uncomfortably on his bed, and his stomach gave a low, angry grumble that Harry politely ignored.

"It was always meant for you," Harry said. He finally sat down beside Albus, and he realized _why_ his father had been so uncomfortable. Albus didn't exactly have a history of reacting well to hand-me-down gifts.

"Really?"

"Even before Godric's Hollow," Harry said. He swallowed hard. At big events – certain Christmases and birthdays – Albus knew his father had his parents on his mind. James and Lily had become very real to him after he'd seen them in person – tangible flesh-and-blood people instead of monolithic figures in history books about the Order of the Phoenix. "But the truth is, you spent more time watching my mum and dad than I'll ever remember. I have so little from them, and I never wanted you and your brother and sister to forget that you had two sets of grandparents, but stories only go so far, Albus. Anyway, I just wanted you to know so you wouldn't think it was just some old ring from the attic at the Burrow or something."

"I wouldn't think that," Albus said quietly. "Even if it was from mum's side of the family, it's still important, but it's…" Albus wracked his brain for the words, but everything felt fuzzy now as it often did when he recalled Godric's Hollow. "It's really special that it's from your side of the family. So thank you. And thank you for telling me."

Harry smiled at him, relieved that Albus was receptive and appreciative, and Albus wanted to apologize for the blanket incident all over again. They'd promised long ago to move past it and not to speak of it, so he held his tongue but let his dad pull him over into a half-hug, and for once, Albus wanted to say it first –

"I love you, dad." It felt as good as another apology.

He felt Harry smile against the top of his head.

"I love you too, Al."

* * *

_Dear Scorpius,_

Scorpius had read his mother's perfect cursive salutation ten times, but couldn't bring himself to read the rest of the letter. It wasn't long – only a page – but reading it would mean he'd have to go back inside, and going back inside meant leaving his mother's rose garden. It was one of the places he felt her presence the most, and right now he wanted to soak up as much of his mother's warmth as he could so he could carry it with him through the evening.

Instead of focusing, Scorpius fidgeted with his cufflinks, his tie, the delicate buttons of his waistcoat and the thin silver piping detail on the cuffs of his dress robes. Lily had done a fine job in picking them out – the navy and silver worked quite well, and he sincerely hoped that Albus was wearing a matching emerald, because Albus in green would always be one of his favorite things.

"Are you going to read that letter at any point today or are you just going to play with the edges?"

Scorpius looked up at Draco, already in his charcoal gray dress robes. It was late in the afternoon and he had only a little more time as Scorpius Malfoy – something he'd thought would be scary or stressful. Instead he felt like a calm but sentimental fool as he ran over every important moment in his life while he sat close to his mother's presence as if he were going over them with her.

"I'll read it," Scorpius said. "I just know that when I do, it will be a while before the next letter, right?"

Draco smiled and sat down beside him on the bench. Only he knew when the letters were to be given out – which events and which birthdays.

"Oh, it won't be that long," Draco said. "There are still a few left, and I daresay the next one isn't too far off."

Scorpius sighed in relief. He'd had the lingering fear that the letter for his wedding would be the last one and he couldn't bear the thought of reading his mother's last words to him. Not yet.

"It's for when I have my first child?" Scorpius ventured.

Draco smiled and, just this once, gave him the answer with a small nod.

He smiled and nodded, and with that assurance he pushed his glasses into place and read Astoria's letter.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_It's your wedding day. It's a day that every mother dreams about for her child, when you know they've found someone who loves them and will care for them in sickness and in health. I know you, Scorpius – you will have chosen your spouse wisely._

_Your father and I faced several trials across our marriage, which was full of love though it was all too brief, so I hope you will forgive me for writing down a few pieces of advice since I won't be there to give them to you in person._

_Never go to bed angry. There is no fight so large that you can't put away your anger and kiss your loved one goodnight._

_There will be bad days for no reason. Love your spouse even when they're cranky and irritable. Love them even when they're not at their best, and they will love you when you're not at your best._

_Being a parent is difficult. Be forgiving with your partner and be forgiving with your child. You're all only human (more on that later)._

_There will be hard times. There will be illnesses. It will never be easy to face, but you can make it easier on one another._

_Barring some horrid accident, one of you will live to lose the other. You may know when it's going to happen. You may not. Make sure you say everything you need to say on a daily basis. Never go a day without saying 'I love you.'_

_Scorpius, I hope that when you're reading this on your wedding day you're certain of your decisions, but that your faith hasn't yet been tested. There's so much more time for that and I know you're up to the challenge._

_I love you, my beautiful boy, and I'm watching over you as you start this new chapter in your life._

_Love,_

_Astoria_

_P.S.:You may have noticed that I chose my words carefully in some of my previous letters. I want to let you know that whether you'll be holding the hands of your lovely bride or your handsome groom, wherever I am, I'm proud of you._

Scorpius stared at the post script for a long time, reading it through the tears that had welled in his eyes. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to tell his mother that she didn't have to worry – he already knew all of those things. He wanted to tell his mother that he told Albus he loved him more than was necessary, that he knew they'd each do anything for each other. He wanted her to know that they'd already faced the hardest of times and had hardly wavered, and that more than anything he was grateful he'd been able to tell her about the person he'd one day marry before she was gone, even if he hadn't known then.

"Did mum know?" Scorpius asked. "Did she know I was gay before she died?"

Draco was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands as he looked across the flowers to the statue that stood at the center of the garden. It was a faceless woman with her gaze turned up toward the sky. Scorpius knew it reminded them both of her and hadn't questioned his father when he'd had it placed.

"I don't think she ever used that word," Draco said. "But your mother knew you looked at people differently than any child she'd ever seen. I think she knew it was a possibility. She also knew how close you and Albus were by the end of your second year and said once that she didn't think you could ever care about anyone as much as you cared about him. I don't think she would have been surprised when you got together."

"I wish I'd known," Scorpius muttered, folding the letter carefully. "I thought for a long time that she might have been upset if I wasn't going to have children."

"Scorpius, we nearly didn't have _you_." Draco looked at him. "We'd made our peace with not having a child long before we started trying. We weren't even sure your mother could get pregnant or if she could carry you to term. We had you because we wanted _you_ , not an heir, and we both loved you no matter what – not because we thought you'd carry on the Malfoy line. I'll admit – it was a struggle when I first realized you were with Albus. I liked the idea of grandchildren because they would have been _your_ children, but I got over that very quickly once I saw how happy he made you and you both began mentioning having a family someday."

Scorpius looked at the statue's upturned face and smiled, content with the knowledge that, had she been here, his mother would have been happy for him.

"I think she would have liked him," Scorpius said.

"She would have loved him, Scorpius," Draco chuckled. "Maybe more than I do."

The miracle of Draco Malfoy loving Harry Potter's son like one of his own wasn't lost on Scorpius, but he chose not to point it out. Even if he'd wanted to, the chance slipped away when they both heard footsteps from behind.

Scorpius turned to see Harry walking towards them, followed by what appeared to be a walking mountain of flowers.

"Oh, Merlin," Scorpius muttered. "How many times did I have to say ' _simple_?'"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please. We've never done simple."

"I found Mr. McKinnon here at the front door when I arrived," Harry said as he approached. McKinnon stopped beside him and the buckets of flowers settled at his feet, clearly attached to him by a charm and lightened by magic. He was a burly young man with a broad smile, sandy hair and kind eyes that Scorpius vaguely recognized.

"I know you! You were a prefect when I started at Hogwarts!"

McKinnon gave a hearty laugh. "I think so," he said. "I think I was a fifth year?"

"Yeah! You were a Hufflepuff! And you used to help Professor Longbottom!"

"Neville is exactly why Henry is here," Harry said, amused. "All the major florists were busy, so he talked to Henry and had him round up some flowers from the Hogwarts grounds and greenhouses. He took over as gamekeeper a year ago."

"Well, thank you, Mr. McKinnon," Draco said, rising from his seat. He shook the young man's hand, and Henry seemed terribly excited to have been greeted in any way at all.

"Your estate grounds are lovely," Henry said. Scorpius had barely had any contact with him and had barely been able to put a name to his face. McKinnon had been unremarkable – a dependable student but not an exceptionally bright one. "I only hope I can keep the Hogwarts grounds half as healthy."

While they bantered about the gardens and where Henry should set things up, Scorpius re-read his mother's letter. He couldn't wait to show Albus – to laugh with him about the baseless worries he'd had at fifteen about letting his mother's memory down – or to tell him about the minister's proposition either, but mostly, Scorpius just couldn't wait to be surrounded by his family – which had grown a great deal in recent years and would grow a great deal more that evening – for a happy occasion that had nothing to do with potions, anxiety, or doubt.

* * *

Albus was anxious by evening when he walked down to the pavilion in the Malfoy Manor's garden with his parents, his siblings trailing along behind them. His father was saying something about trying to relax and enjoy the day, and his mother, dressed in deep crimson robes, was telling him over and over again how much she loved him and how proud she was, but he could barely hear them over the nervous buzzing in his ears. He kept reminding himself over and over again to stand up straight, don't trip, make sure to keep smiling, be mindful when dancing, don't get surly even if things go wrong and he'll definitely be there, this was his idea…

It had been like that for hours, and between his family swarming around and getting ready while excitedly chatting about _his_ life as if he weren't there (they meant well and he knew it all came from a place of love) and Scorpius' absence, he was sincerely wishing time would speed up to tonight when he could finally go home and collapse into bed with his husband.

He didn't hear a word his parents were saying, however, when they rounded the corner to the back of the pavilion. Albus could hear all the voices from the people seated inside, waiting and talking amongst themselves. As they walked along the edge, he caught the pleasant, earthy scent of flowers – something familiar that reminded him of Hogwarts. He heard his Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron clearest of all, likely talking to his grandparents and cousins at the front.

Scorpius was talking to Draco, Dania, and Ainsley, who clearly said something funny as they approached because Scorpius started laughing. He was still grinning when Dania pointed to the approaching Potters, and his face lit up even more when he saw them.

The buzzing quieted instantly as Albus picked up his pace. He didn't care about greeting anyone, watching his step, or being proper. All he could think about was wrapping his arms around Scorpius' shoulders and hugging him until he couldn't anymore, because suddenly everything was quiet and he hoped he was having the same effect on Scorpius.

Scorpius seemed to have the same idea, because he wasted no time in locking his arms around Albus' middle, gripping him tight and burying his face against Albus' neck. Albus was vaguely aware of a snide comment from Lily along the lines of "there will be time for that later," and a remark from Dania about not kissing until the end of the ceremony, but he didn't think he had it in him to let go of Scorpius enough to even consider kissing him.

"I missed you," Scorpius muttered against his neck.

"I'm just glad you didn't realize you're too good for me and decided not to show up," Albus joked, but he knew Scorpius could hear the hint of truth in it when he tightened his arms around Albus' waist.

"Never," Scorpius said. "Never ever. And you know what?"

"What?" Albus asked.

"Dad gave me another letter from my mum today," he said. Albus slid his hand across the silk covering Scorpius' shoulders, taking note of the texture that matched his own robes and the shining midnight blue that somehow made perfect sense for a boy named after a cluster of stars.

"I think she knew, Albus," Scorpius continued. "I think she knew you and I would get together."

Albus smiled at the sound of relief in Scorpius' voice, recalling the uncertainty he'd once had over whether or not his late mother would have approved. The greatest wedding gift she could have given him from beyond the grave was her blessing, and Albus could almost feel the relief coming off of him in waves.

"I'm glad," Albus said.

Over Scorpius' shoulder, he could see their families – _family_ – watching them with a mixture of impatience and adoration. After a second, Ginny, ushered everyone except Scorpius and Albus inside to take their seats, which must have told Hermione it was time, because the noise died down rather quickly, leaving only the soft violin from the back corner.

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asked, moving to release Albus, who reluctantly let go, but captured Scorpius' hand the instant it was free. He took in Scorpius' smiling face, his perfectly-parted hair, and the way the silver accents on his robes and the deep blue fabric accented his irises. Everyone always talked about Albus' eyes – how bright they were and how they looked so much like his father's and grandmother’s – but Albus had never been sure he deserved the compliments when he was standing next to Scorpius, and this was Scorpius at his best. He was happy, healthy and bright with excitement and optimism, and it was so blinding that Albus had to hold his hand tighter, both to ground himself and to remind himself that he could now.

"I don't think I'll ever get over you being okay," Albus admitted. "There were so many times I was afraid this wouldn't happen."

"Me too," Scorpius laughed, and Albus grinned at the sound. He reached up and adjusted Scorpius' glasses unnecessarily as an excuse to smooth his hair back down behind his ear.

Albus glanced inside and noticed that things were very silver and green – likely Draco's doing – and he smiled at his Aunt Hermione standing at the end of the long path of silver fabric leading up to the front of the congregation in robes of deep purple and silver.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

In the years to come, Scorpius would find that he remembered very little of the dialogue at his own wedding. He repeated what Hermione told him to say and listened more to Albus' gentle, loving tone than the words he was saying. His eyes rarely strayed from Albus, who was resplendent in emerald (he had to remember to thank Lily for a multitude of reasons), but when they did, he found several things he wanted to remember.

He remembered the way his father tried not to cry and chose to hold onto Orion when he gave up and let the tears fall.

He remembered looking out over the crowd and seeing a small line of their Slytherin friends standing behind the seated Weasleys and Potters, all dressed to the nines with their arms folded, looking menacing (none more than Maggie, who managed to be terrifying despite being six months pregnant) when Hermione asked if anyone present had any objections.

He remembered the Potters and Weasleys, their extended family and friends smiling at them, and he remembered Duncan Flint and Andrew Farley whistling as Albus slipped Draco's old ring onto Scorpius' finger.

He remembered Professor McGonagall patting Harry's shoulder from her seat behind him as he cried, watching his youngest son happily receive his grandfather's wedding ring, and Ginny shaking her head at her husband's inability to keep his composure during weddings.

He remembered the deafening silence that surely hadn't existed when Hermione declared them bonded for life, and Albus barely let her finish her words before pulling him down into a kiss that Scorpius met with such enthusiasm that Albus had to stand on his toes to meet his new husband's height. If there had been cheering, Scorpius didn't hear it.

Most of all, he remembered the way he felt, as if he were wrapped in a bubble of safety, and the way a hot September evening felt as pleasant and promising as New Year's Eve.

* * *

The stars were out by the time the entire congregation had moved to The Burrow where the Weasleys had set up a massive wooden platform surrounded by torches and enchanted lights. Tables of food and desserts lined the dais, and the reception fell into a kind of happy kind of rhythm with everyone eating, milling about, and talking. Scorpius and Albus were hugged by no less than twenty Weasleys before they were able to say hello to Draco, Dania, and Ainsley, and Scorpius was still holding Orion when Flint, Farley, Pucey and Maggie appeared, screaming their congratulations with the kind of excitement that only those who witnessed the start of a relationship could muster.

After about twenty minutes of greetings that bordered on loving harassment, the band – a small string and piano ensemble that was available at the last minute – started to play, and the crowd parted to clear the center of the area. Scorpius looked to Albus, who was gulping down the last of his water, with a bit of panic.

"We don't have to dance," Scorpius said quickly, kicking himself for not having considered this sooner. "Not like, actually dance –"

"Shush, Scorpius," Albus said, and took his hand, pulling him stumbling and confused to the center of the room. Scorpius caught Albus looking to his father who gave an encouraging thumbs-up as the music shifted into a waltz – an arrangement Scorpius recognized from long-ago etiquette lessons – and Albus put his hand on Scorpius' shoulder.

"Come on," he said, holding out his and for Scorpius to take. "I thought they taught you to dance in your fancy Malfoy classes."

"Well, they did, but –"

Albus took Scorpius' hand in is own and stepped back, pulling Scorpius' left side forward so he was forced into step, and at once they were dancing.

Albus had been graceful in his Quidditch days, and after he'd been injured he never really regained the sense of poise he'd once had. Even now when he'd regained most of his movement his pace was off – something Scorpius regretted deeply. His steps were correct and even – not as perfect as they might have been a long time ago if he'd been taught properly – but when Scorpius hadn't even expected to really dance with his husband, it seemed perfect.

"When did you learn this?" Scorpius asked once some of the shock had worn off.

"A few days ago," Albus said, stumbling a bit. Scorpius covered it instantly and forced them back into step with the music, remembering how Harry had said 'some idiot' had stepped on his foot. Scorpius caught his father-in-law's eye and Harry winked at him.

"That's really impressive, Al," Scorpius admitted.

"Figured your dad might force us to have an annulment if I couldn't do at least one thing properly," Albus said.

"You can't annul a marriage that's already been consummated," Scorpius said.

"Our laws say anything _before_ the wedding doesn't matter," Albus reminded him with a wolfish grin. "The marriage has to be consummated _after_ the vows."

"I'll have to get on that, then," Scorpius said, grinning and pulling Albus' hand to his shoulder. "Can't have you running off."

When the song ended and their guests closed in, filling the dance floor as the band began a more upbeat and lively number, Scorpius pulled Albus in for a firm hug, swaying with him out of time with the music.

"Malfoy-Potters," Ainsley greeted. Scorpius released Albus enough to look at her, but kept his arm around his husband's shoulders as James joined them. She looked lovely in a brilliant gold dress, and James, who kept looking over at her as he talked, seemed to think so too.

"Did you see dad crying?" James asked Albus. "McGonagall had to lend him a handkerchief. I thought mum was going to kill him."

"Draco didn't do much better," Albus reminded him. "Besides, dad always cries at weddings. Ron says he damn near broke down during his and Hermione's – not that either of them remember much of it -"

"I'll be back," Scorpius said suddenly. He'd obviously seen something interesting and kissed Albus' cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

Albus sighed and shook his head. "I'm glad he's got his energy back but if he could just sit still," he muttered.

"That's not the Malfoy way," Ainsley said solemnly shaking her head.

They talked for several minutes, watching other couples dance and talk, before Albus spotted Scorpius across the crowd. He was dancing carefully with Professor McGonagall, who was moving gingerly and _almost_ looking her age, and they were in intense conversation. Albus made a mental note to ask him what they'd discussed later, and when Teddy appeared he lost track of Scorpius altogether.

* * *

When dinner was properly served, Albus and Scorpius made their way from table to table, catching up with everyone and being offered enough well-wishes to last a lifetime. Albus thought that as the evening wore on, Scorpius grew more and more handsome as he became more disheveled, unfastening his robes and shedding them early in the evening not long after their guests had shed their outer layers in favor of better movement for dancing. The cooling charm that surrounded the reception wasn't enough with so many people, and try as she might Hermione couldn't seem to get the temperature regulated and eventually gave up.

They finally landed at the Potters' table where Lily and Rose were just settling in from another stint on the dance floor. They were both dateless and were alternating dancing with all their uncles and cousins and dancing with one another, and both were flushed, happy, and slightly tipsy by the time the roast dinner was brought to the tables.

"It's warm out there!" Lily said, fanning herself. Albus agreed, handing his robes over to his mother and unbuttoning his waistcoat. He braced his arms on the back of Rose's chair, leaning into it and let her rest her head back against his stomach.

"Well, someone decided to get married in September," Ginny said, glaring at Albus, who gave her a light shrug.

"You should have raised me to be more patient," Albus said. "Really, this is your fault."

Ginny looked ready to protest and put Albus in his place when a somewhat familiar young man approached Harry. Albus placed him as a Hufflepuff who'd been a few years older, but struggled to come up with a name. The man looked exhausted, and Albus suspected he was here helping with the wedding in some way.

"Ah, Henry!" Harry said. Even with a name, Albus still failed to place the boy.

"All the arrangements have been moved over here from the manor," Henry said, seeming a bit nervous with so many people present. "Mr. Malfoy wanted photos and I think the photographer will be here soon, so I set the flowers up 'round back."

"You've been doing that this whole time?" Scorpius asked. Albus looked at his husband, who clearly knew more than he did. "Please, go get something to eat. Have a drink."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Henry said. "I-I mean, Malfoy-Potter."

Scorpius grinned at the name, his arm tightening around Albus'. "Call me Scorpius," he said. "Especially since you once gave me detention for running in a corridor."

A former prefect, Albus realized. Scorpius began introducing everyone around the table, as he'd been taught to do years ago. Albus wondered if he could have refrained from the formality if he tried.

"This is Ainsley – my sister and James' girlfriend – Lily, who would have been pretty young when you left Hogwarts, I think, and Rose –"

"Rose Granger-Weasley," Henry said eagerly, once he realized who she was. Rose jumped in her seat at the sound of her name and clearly hadn't been paying attention. Albus smirked at her.

"Yes?"

"I'm a big fan of yours," he said quickly. "I followed the Harpies all season – you were great! You're my favorite current player! That game against Ireland was just -" Henry cut himself off and looked away from her.

"Oh. Well, thank you," Rose said. Albus could hear the rehearsed nature of her words. He was certain she'd said them a thousand times when taken off guard, but this time she at least looked amused.

Henry looked a bit embarrassed at his outburst and stepped back a bit. Albus noticed he blushed nearly as furiously as a Weasley.

"I'll just… go get something to eat," he said, backing up further. Harry seemed amused and told him to come back – he'd conjure an extra chair – but he passed Albus so quickly that he wasn't sure Henry planned on returning.

Rose's head turned quickly as he passed and whatever was holding her hair scraped against Albus' stomach. He was only angry for a moment until he realized why. He knew why the flowers had reminded him of Hogwarts – some of them grew at the edge of the grounds in the forest. He'd encountered them a few times while he was there, but had gotten familiar with them during his fourth year.

_That's why the smell made me nostalgic_ , Albus thought.

"Al," Rose said. She grasped at his arm, using it to awkwardly hoist herself from her chair. "Albus –"

"Yeah, I know," he said. He looked into his cousin's wide brown eyes and knew she was remembering the same potions lesson he was. He hadn't been able to smell what she did in the amortentia, of course, but there was no mistaking that this was the woody smell from the edge of the forest and flowers that she'd described. There was no way of knowing if that smell was connected to Henry the Hufflepuff, but Rose had locked onto him, her eyes following him closely as he moved over to the buffet and Albus thought she'd never resembled a fox more with her wide eyes and flaming hair.

"Go," Albus said, nudging her.

"Oh, I can't. It's weird," Rose said.

Albus gaped at her. "You're Rose Granger-Weasley. You're the quintessential Gryffindor. I know that's not _fear_ I'm hearing."

Rose sneered at him for a second before looking back over to where Henry had gone. She must have decided Albus was right, because she squared her shoulders and marched off without another word.

Albus looked back at the table and saw Lily smiling up at him sweetly.

"You really do give the best pep-talks, Albus."

It was Albus' turn to be embarrassed as his family murmured in approval and Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus' shoulders proudly.

* * *

After an hour and a half, Scorpius sank into a chair beside his father, properly miserable. He'd shed his robes, waistcoat and tie, but was still terribly warm. The women were lucky – they could remove their robes and many were wearing lighter summertime dresses underneath, but Scorpius felt certain he was going to die in his long-sleeved shirt.

"This is miserable," Scorpius said. "Truly."

Draco was watching Albus dance with Lily beside James and Ainsley, with Rose and Henry dancing not too far away (it didn't look like he was looking for someone more kind and submissive, since he couldn't seem to look away from Rose at all). Albus had long since taken off every item of clothing he could, leaving him in only his suspenders, trousers, and his thin white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Scorpius thanked Merlin, Dumbledore, and every great wizard he knew for his boyfr – _husband_ ' _s_ – perfect arms.

"Roll up your sleeves," Draco suggested.

Scorpius instinctively tugged them down to cover the scars over his wrists. They weren't like Albus' scars – Albus had a story behind each of his and had earned them in a compassionate line of work, and they'd all healed and smoothed over after proper treatment was administered swiftly. Scorpius' scars were a reminder of feeling helpless and broken – something he really didn't want to feel on his wedding day.

"No, that's okay," Scorpius said.

Draco studied him for a moment.

"Why not?"

"You know why," Scorpius answered. "The scars on my wrists. They're just ugly."

"Does Albus think they're ugly?"

"Of course not," Scorpius muttered. "Every time I mention them he says something soppy about them being a reminder of how strong I am. Utter nonsense."

"Well, I don't think it's nonsense," Draco said. "But I do think I know where you learned to cover things up."

Scorpius watched as his father held out his arms and began undoing his cufflinks. He loosened his sleeves, tucking the silver snakes with emerald eyes into his pocket before rolling his cuffs back up his forearms.

Scorpius had seen the scar on his father's arm so rarely that he often forgot it was there. Draco didn't like to swim, and when he'd taken Scorpius to the beach with Astoria long ago, he'd wrapped a bandage around that part of his arm. He'd seen it later in life, of course, but he'd never gotten used to it.

Now, however, Scorpius saw it as just another scar. He knew what the symbol looked like - he couldn't un-see it now – and it wasn't even recognizable under years of scar tissue and healing. Now, it was just another mark.

Scorpius carefully pulled out his own cufflinks – Draco held out his hand and took them, as they were an old family heirloom from some long-forgotten Malfoy – and rolled his sleeves up. He allowed himself only a moment to eye his scars with distain before looking back at Draco, who seemed more relaxed than Scorpius had seen him in ages.

"Are you having fun?" Scorpius asked.

"Of course I am," Draco said, and he gave Scorpius a warm smile that was becoming more and more common with each passing day. "You're happy, my family is here, and… well, you've given us both a much larger family than I could have ever hoped for."

Scorpius beamed at him. He never got tired of hearing the Potters and Weasleys referred to as family. He didn't think he ever would.

"Go on, Mr. Malfoy-Potter," Draco said, shooing Scorpius away. "Your husband is calling for you. We can talk later."

Albus was indeed gesturing Scorpius over. He was standing with George and Charlie, and all three of them looked like they were up to no good. Scorpius spotted a firecracker in Charlie's hand and gulped.

"Right. Excuse me," he said, and dashed away.

* * *

The fireworks turned out to be an excellent way to wind down the evening. After photos and cake, everyone sat in the field and watched as George, Charlie and Bill lit up the night sky with hundreds of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes fireworks, and Albus thought it was their most impressive show to date. He'd watched from a particularly soft patch of grass next to Scorpius. He leaned into his husband's side, his heart full of affection and happiness as he watched his family point and laugh as the fireworks took the shape of various creatures in the sky. 

Albus ran his thumb over Scorpius' wrists idly as he watched Harriet jump in excitement at the fireworks. She was so excited that her father could scarcely contain her, and by the end Teddy had her securely seated in his lap, locked in place by his arms next to Victoire and Bill.

Once the fireworks had ended, Albus watched as his family moved back to their tables, clustered together in conversation, making plans to see one another soon. He stayed next to Scorpius who seemed just as reluctant as he was to let the evening end, and he wondered if they could just exist in this happy bubble forever.

"Are you getting tired?" Scorpius asked as Rose and Lily passed by them. They were listening to Henry talk excitedly about the diversity of the plants on the Hogwarts grounds. Rose was watching him with a kind of bemused fondness she usually reserved for her cousins, and Albus hoped he and Scorpius had been wrong – maybe she didn't need a high-powered ministry official or Quidditch player as a boyfriend. Maybe she deserved a kind-hearted groundskeeper who, at least at first glance – worshiped her.

"Not really," Albus said. "Someone handed me a cup of coffee about an hour ago, so I'm pretty much awake."

Albus was just about to suggest that the second round of energy might come in handy when they got home when Charlie threw himself onto the ground in front of them, laying back on the grass, bringing with him the faint smell of firewhiskey.

"Did you like the fireworks?"

"They were great!" Scorpius chirped. "I quite liked the dragon ones!"

"Me too," Charlie agreed. Albus noticed there was a bandage wrapped around his hand. Charlie followed his eyes and held it up. "My own fault. You'd think I'd be better with fire by now."

"It wouldn't be a Weasley-affiliated event if someone didn't get injured," Albus said. Charlie shrugged and looked up at the stars.

"All that matters is that you two are having a good time," Charlie said with a tired smile. He reached out and patted Albus' ankle with his injured hand, and it was a testament to his intoxication that he didn't wince.

"I'm glad you're here, Charlie," Albus said.

"And I never got to thank you," Scorpius added. "Albus told me about the Chimaera egg and how you helped. I really appreciate it."

"Thank you for not letting my favorite nephew get eaten?" Charlie laughed. "You're welcome."

Charlie paused for a moment, his smile fading as he stared up at the stars. For a moment, Albus worried that something was wrong until Charlie turned to look at him.

"I took your advice, Al," Charlie said. "I talked to my mum and dad."

"About what?" Scorpius asked, confused. He looked between Albus and Charlie, clearly worried that their cryptic exchange was about something dangerous – after all, both Charlie and Albus were skilled at acquiring scars.

Albus wasn't going to out his uncle, however. He hadn't told anyone about Charlie's old boyfriend, and if it was meant to stay a secret, he'd keep it.

Charlie didn't seem to mind, however. "I told Albus about the boyfriend I had when I was your age," he said. Scorpius quirked a pale eyebrow at him. "I was telling him how glad I was that the two of you were going to get married when I never got the chance with Nicholae."

"He was killed in a dragon rampage," Albus explained. Scorpius looked appropriately horrified.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Scorpius said. "I'd always wondered why you never married."

"I never met anyone else quite like him," Charlie explained. "Maybe someday. I suppose it's still a possibility."

Scorpius leaned into Albus, wrapping both arms around his middle and Albus held onto him tight because he knew if he lost Scorpius the way Charlie had lost Nicholae, he too would have remained alone into his fifties. He kissed the top of Scorpius' head before looking back to his uncle, who'd politely turned his attention back to the sky.

"It made me feel a bit better," Charlie said lightly, "telling people about him, I mean."

"I'm glad," Albus admitted.

He hoped Charlie would tell him more someday, and that maybe he'd meet someone new to love, but most of all Albus felt fortunate – where so many things could have gone wrong so much had gone right.

* * *

The party didn't truly break up until the early hours of the morning. The food was gone, the cake no longer resembled a cake, and the cooling spells had worn off entirely, leading Albus to remove his shirt to help begin cleaning up in a thin undershirt that showed part of his tattoo. Scorpius took a moment to appreciate the sight before moving over to help.

Only the Malfoys, Potters, and a few Weasleys remained, Albus' grandparents included. They started gathering guests' forgotten items into a wooden crate, vanishing the disposable plates, and charming the tables to fold themselves and stack along the edges.

"You two should go home," Harry demanded as Scorpius drew his wand, ready to help. "Get some rest. You're traveling tomorrow."

Lily snickered at the notion of them going home to rest, and Ginny smacked her shoulder to silence her. Scorpius blushed and turned his attention to Harry.

"We can help," Scorpius said. "It was our wedding –"

"Precisely," said Grandma Molly, ushering her grandson over to his husband. Albus pressed himself into Scorpius' side as if drawn there by a magnet, and Scorpius didn't care that it was too warm to be held. He draped an arm around Albus' shoulders as Molly eyed Harry with confusion.

"Harry, let me see your watch."

"Huh? Oh." Harry held out his left arm, showing an old dented watch with a worn leather band.

"Is that the one I gave you?" Molly asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I only wear it on special occasions now."

Scorpius was certain the tearful look Molly gave Harry wasn't entirely about the watch (Harry had long ago told him and Albus that it was Molly's late brother's and was one of his most cherished possession). Her grandson had just gotten married after all, but when she reached up to pat Harry's cheek, Scorpius realized it was something more.

"What?" Harry asked, bemused.

"Nothing," Molly said, shaking her head. "I just remember when none of us thought you'd live to see twenty."

It was difficult to make Harry blush, but Molly seemed to have done it because Harry looked down, shuffling his feet. Scorpius felt Albus chuckle at his side as Ginny approached.

"Now, mum. Stop embarrassing him," she said, stepping in to rescue Harry. "We've all had a long day and frankly none of us need to start crying _again._ "

James snickered, waving his wand to fold up one of the tables. Nearby, Ainsley was swaying with Orion, trying to calm him down.

"Seriously – you guys should go home. We've got it from here."

"I'm jealous of your vacation," Ainsley said. "You'll have to bring back photos."

"I'm bringing my camera," Albus assured them. "And we'll bring back presents."

Charlie called from the other end of the dais where he'd been tasked with stacking up all the plates. He lazily waved his wand at them and they clattered together into piles.

"Bring me back a dragon egg!"

"Absolutely not," Scorpius said, cutting off whatever Albus was going to say. He wasn't entirely certain Albus wouldn't have brought his uncle back an egg, or even a live dragon.

Charlie laughed and even Draco and Dania looked amused.

"Go on," Draco said. "We'll see you when you get back."

"Are you sure?" Scorpius asked.

"I don't want to just bail," Albus added.

"For Merlin's sake, just _go,_ " Lily said. "You've seen all your friends, you've seen all your family – you've done enough."

Albus smiled at them from Scorpius' side and nodded. Everyone stopped working and Albus and Scorpius hugged everyone in turn, receiving one last round of love from their family.

_Their_ family, Scorpius thought. It settled on him for the first time that the strange Malfoy-Potter-Weasley mashup that seemed impossible before was now legitimate and he was a Potter. He was a lot of things he never thought he could be – a survivor, a criminal, a time-traveler, and _happy_ , and as he stopped to embrace his father last, he paused for a moment, holding onto him.

"I'm really happy, dad," he muttered.

He felt Draco's smile against his temple and felt his arms tighten. "I am too."

* * *

Albus knew many couples who would have been disappointed to go straight home after their wedding reception, but to him it felt perfect. After they floo'd home from the Burrow, he stepped from the fireplace tired, sore, and entirely at peace with the world. Things were a bit on the quiet side as Zar was at the Malfoy Manor where he would stay while they were away, but he was grateful for the solitude when he collapsed onto the couch with Scorpius not far behind.

"Not too bad for five days of preparation," Albus said, stretching out. Scorpius worked his way between Albus' side and the back of the couch and lay his head against Albus' stomach, their legs dangling over the arm.

"We can take no credit for that," Scorpius said. "Our families were wonderful."

"Our family," Albus corrected, carding his fingers through Scorpius' sticky hair. They were both in desperate need of showers, but Albus couldn't bring himself to move. He wanted just a minute more.

"There's something important I need to ask you," Scorpius said.

"We're _not_ getting an annulment," Albus said quickly.

Scorpius laughed, turning his face against Albus' stomach, his fingertips playing across Albus' shoulders and arms. "No. But I need you to hear me out."

"Go on."

"Your Aunt Hermione talked to me last night," Scorpius began. "She offered me a place at the ministry."

"In her office?" Albus asked. "That's a good way to put some distance between yourself and the job you were fired from, I suppose."

"No, not in her office. She offered me a position as head of a small department dedicated to bringing together wizarding academics and knowledge from around the world," Scorpius said, looking up at Albus. "She said the potion and the cure got her thinking about how useful it would be to have all that information in one place – kind of like the muggles do – and we'd use squibs when it involved technology, that way there's more than one copy of everything."

Albus looked a bit surprised and began playing with the silver band on Scorpius' finger. He liked these much better than their placeholder rings, he'd decided. They were heavier and much more official – not to mention loaded with meaning from both their fathers.

"I know. I was surprised too," Scorpius said. "I don't think I'm qualified. I really don't know why she'd want me to be in charge –"

"You're overqualified, love," Albus corrected quickly before Scorpius could bring himself down. "You're brilliant, at the beginning of your career, have research skills, and can clearly work with the international community. How are you _not_ perfect for that job?"

"I'm only twenty," Scorpius said.

"Hermione Granger's best friend killed the Dark Lord at seventeen and she helped, and then she went on to become the youngest female Minister of Magic Britain has ever seen," Albus reminded him, running the back of his hand across Scorpius' flushed cheeks. The novelty of seeing so much color in his face still hadn't worn off. "I don't think she cares much about age, Scorp."

"I hadn't thought of that," Scorpius said. "I mean, she's your aunt so I guess you would know better…"

"She's your aunt now, too," Albus reminded him.

Scorpius grinned at him, and Albus gave him a warm smile, idly twisting the ring around his finger.

"So you think I should do it?"

"I think you should talk to everyone whose opinion you trust," Albus said. "But my vote is yes. I think you'd be brilliant."

"What if I'm really busy?" Scorpius asked.

"We'll figure it out," Albus said. "If in a few years' time one of us has to stay at home, I can always find a way to make it work."

"With our five kids?"

Albus laughed, happy with Scorpius' certainty and the return of his optimism. He kissed the back of his husband's hand.

"Our five Malfoy-Potter kids," Albus amended. "And our big house in the middle of nowhere."

"Yes," Scorpius said, laying his head back down with a yawn. "I like that. It sounds quiet and perfect."

Albus lay his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, stroking Scorpius' hair until it was smooth again. The house was silent, but he didn't want to sleep – he'd learned long ago to cling to these perfect, still moments, and he wanted to stay awake forever to preserve the fragile silence that had settled over them. Scorpius seemed to feel the same. He remained remarkably still, even refraining from his usual fidgeting for a few minutes until he gave a great yawn and looked up at Albus.

"I'm sleepy," he said uselessly.

Albus couldn't do anything but agree. He lazily ran his fingers up and down Scorpius' spine with a sleepy smile.

"Go to sleep, then."

"But we just got married."

Albus' eyes closed of their own accord as Scorpius lay his head back down against his stomach. He'd pay for this in the morning – they both needed showers and would likely have sore necks in if they stayed here, but as Albus listened to Scorpius' breathing start to level out, he knew he couldn't move.

"We'll still be married tomorrow," he said softly. Scorpius gave a small hum of contentment, wrapping his arm tighter around Albus' waist and smiling.

Albus let himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of his husband's breathing and the feeling of his heartbeat against his side, astonished at his good fortune. It was a perfect moment and he would have loved for it to last forever, but Albus knew he'd have perfect moments scattered throughout his lifetime and he was overwhelmed with gratitude at the thought that he'd get to spend years upon years at his best friend's side. He lay his hand atop Scorpius', and let himself dream of wide open fields, laughing children, and a warm, loving home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> I hope this chapter is satisfactory, given everything I've put you through if you've read to this point.
> 
> I'll be posting the epilogue and an accompanying short story (that takes place between Chapter 20 and the epilogue) shortly. The epilogue can be read without the short story, but I highly suggest reading the short story and then the epilogue if you intend to read both.
> 
> As always, you can find me on [Tumblr where you can ask me anything.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com)


	21. Epilogue: Soft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short story that takes place between Chapter 20 and the epilogue, and if you would like to read it, you can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11793057). I highly suggest you read it before reading the epilogue.

_I think we deserve_

_a soft epilogue, my love._

_We are good people_

_and we’ve suffered enough._

_Seventy Years of Sleep_ _# 4._ nikka ursula

 

Scorpius woke with a start.

The first thing he noticed was that it was well after dawn and the sky looked heavy and gray outside his high window.

The second thing he noticed was that the bed was rather cold. When his mind started to work as he took a few deep breaths, he remembered that this was a common occurrence these days - no need for panic.

He groaned, rolling onto his back. He stretched himself out, feet dangling over the edge of the bed and felt his shoulders and knees crack. As he had every morning this week, Scorpius took a moment to silently lament his age. Normally it didn't bother him – when he looked in the mirror, he saw the lines around his eyes and mouth and knew that they were from smiling and laughing and he could never be ashamed of that – but the last week of August had been a personal battle for him for the last six years, and this year was no different.

"Up," Scorpius muttered to no one. "I have to get up."

A whimper rose from the floor beside him. He turned to the edge of the bed and saw Ridgebit, an aging English Shepherd, lying on the small carpet beside the bed next to his slippers. He reached down and scratched behind her ears.

"You don't want to get up either, do you girl?"

Ridgebit only panted in response.

With great reluctance, Scorpius swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed his glasses and pulled on his slippers, and got to his feet. He shook out the wrinkles in his pajamas and ran a hand back through his hair before pulling on his glasses.

Scorpius looked down at his feet. These weren't his pajamas at all – there was far too much of his pale ankles on display. Clearly, someone had sorted the laundry poorly.

"I've got to get a House Elf next summer," he sighed before tucking his wand into his pocket and walking across the wooden floor to the door.

He descended from the renovated attic slowly – the stairs were narrow and creaky but the climb was worth it for the extra space – and paused when he got to the second floor. He looked at the four doors – three still closed – and decided he was better off going downstairs to get his coffee alone.

Scorpius made his way downstairs to the kitchen, walking slowly so Ridgebit could keep up (she was always slower in the mornings). The kitchen was a disaster from the previous night – dishes stacked in the sink and empty Butterbeer and ale bottles on the massive island table that often served as their dining room. While the coffee brewed, Scorpius started clearing the mess with a few charms, sending the bottles into the bin in the corner and enchanting a scrub brush to clean the dishes. He pushed a vine from the hanging plant over the counter out of the way – keeping a fresh supply of dittany around wasn't just a prudent move these days – it was a necessity.

He didn't look up until he had his coffee in-hand. Outside the kitchen window he could see across the green field that had a bit of early morning mist hanging over it. The field was lined with a strong wooden fence, and at the back corner sat a barn – freshly painted and well-kept. The grass had small hoofmarks in it, and a patch of scorched earth lay to the right near the fence. A large tub of feed sat unmolested at the center of the paddock, and just barely in view was the addition Albus and Scorpius (mostly Albus with Charlie and Harry's help) had built two years ago – a free-standing library and workspace that let Scorpius work from home on the days he wasn't physically needed at the ministry.

The Department of International Academic Collaboration was a well-oiled machine now, though it had gotten off to a rocky start. With Jin's help, Scorpius had helped build a network of wizarding academics worldwide, and had overseen the development of a digital network and offices run by squibs and muggles to help share information internationally. It was his third most important accomplishment – one he proudly shared with his collaborators in wizarding governments worldwide, and he was happy now to take a back seat and answer questions from the quiet comfort of his own study when he could.

Well, quiet when the kids weren't home.

Scorpius looked to the clock on the wall. It was just about time. He watched the doors of the barn closely, sipping at his coffee contentedly and enjoying the silence for just a moment longer.

Just like clockwork, Albus emerged from the barn just past eight o'clock. He was dressed in work clothes – a t-shirt and a pair of long pants with pockets down the side tucked into his boots. He was laughing as their eldest daughter Avery emerged beside him, and together they shoved the barn doors shut and started walking back to the house.

Avery was very tall – taller than Albus – lithe and strong. Her dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail and Scorpius noticed she had simply pulled her boots on over her pajamas. She often got up early during the summers to help Albus tend to the animals – she was particularly fond of the mooncalves and had become very attached to a slightly-deformed infant that Albus had been fostering. The greatest achievement of her holiday had been helping the creature learn to walk and nurse like its adopted brothers and sisters – something Scorpius was proud to say he'd aided in, as he'd helped her research muggle methods of helping similar creatures. Avery was an inherent bookworm, which was likely what earned her a spot in Ravenclaw, and could have figured it out on her own, but Scorpius had been overjoyed that she'd come to him.

He grinned as he watched Albus wrap his arm around their daughter's shoulders, pulling her down to ruffle her hair and kiss her temple as they walked. Sometimes Scorpius still found himself watching Albus when he wasn't looking and was always caught off guard by his husband's fierce protectiveness over his family and his easy laugh. Albus was more comfortable with himself now as they neared the end of their thirties than he'd ever been – running his creature rehabilitation clinic and caring for his family. He was strong, though he still walked with a bit of a limp some days, and he'd long since given up trying to tame his hair, which only grew more unruly as the years went by. Two years ago, he'd had a particularly frustrating day with it falling into his eyes while he worked and hadn't cut it since, choosing instead to twist it up and tie it back each morning.

It reminded Scorpius of old photos of his Uncle Bill, and when he'd relayed that to Albus, his husband had only laughed.

"Well, one of us has to live up to the Malfoy name," Albus had said, ruffling Scorpius' shorter hair directly into his face.

He watched now as Albus retied his hair as he walked before drawing Avery back under his arm, holding her close. His smile faded a bit as he did so. September 1 was always hard for both Scorpius and Albus, but they did their best to make sure the kids felt as loved as possible before they left.

Albus and Avery sauntered in through the kitchen door, laughing and happy until Scorpius yelped as they walked past the entrance mat.

"Take your boots off! It's muddy out there."

"Good morning to you too, dad," Avery said sarcastically, crouching down to untie her new boots (which she hadn't needed, but Harry had insisted). Albus wiggled his way from his and tossed them onto the mat. He walked into the kitchen barefoot, smiling.

"Good morning," he said to Scorpius. Even though Scorpius felt there was a dark cloud hanging over them this particular morning, he couldn't help the warm feeling he got every morning when he first saw his husband's face each morning.

"Hello," he replied. As Albus passed him he raised up and gave Scorpius a quick peck on the lips before reaching for the coffee. Avery wasn't far behind, and she kissed Scorpius' cheek before hopping up onto the kitchen counter. Ridgebit sat at her feet and Avery bent over to scratch behind her ears.

"I had to say goodbye to Molly," Avery lamented. It always took Scorpius a second to remember she was talking about her Mooncalf, not her late Great Grandma Molly. "I think she knows I'm leaving. She seemed a bit sad. Papa?"

Albus turned at the sound of his name, holding his favorite mug. It was one their eldest son Adam had made for Father's Day one year – a lumpy ceramic thing with "Worlb's Best Papa" etched into it (Adam had a problem with telling 'b' and 'd' apart as a child, and Albus refused to throw the mug away despite Adam's pleas as a method of friendly torture via embarrassment). 

"If she gets depressed, can you take my quilt outside and put it in her stall?" Avery asked Albus. "I don't care if it gets ruined. The smell might make her feel better."

Albus smiled proudly at her. "Sure thing."

Avery seemed relieved.

Adam and Samuel came downstairs. Adam was the only Malfoy-Potter child who was as tall as Avery – something he regarded as an achievement. However, Scorpius thought he was the least menacing of their children with his glasses and thin build. Where Avery was well-rounded, Adam was their quintessential geek – awkward, kind and brilliant. He'd learned to communicate better with other people over the last year or so, and Scorpius was happy to see a smile on his face as he stepped into the kitchen with Samuel not far behind. At fifteen, Adam was growing into his intelligence and quelling his awkwardness – something Scorpius knew was helped by being in Ravenclaw with Avery, who took no prisoners when it came to people picking on her siblings.

"'Morning," he said through a yawn. He gave Scorpius a half-hug as he stepped in and glared at Albus' mug.

"Ugh, why?" he asked, but gave his papa a hug as well anyway.

"Because it makes you make that face," Albus replied simply. He embraced Samuel next and ruffled his hair.

"G'morning," Samuel muttered. He was clearly still half asleep, and appeared to have forgotten one of his slippers.

"A letter came for you," Scorpius told Adam as he prepared his morning tea. Adam only nodded. He was the only one of their children whose birth mother had requested contact, and he obligingly exchanged letters with her every few months once he was old enough to make the decision to do it for himself. "I think she sent a care package too."

"Oh!" Samuel cried. "Muggle sweets?"

"Most likely," Adam grumbled. "She sends them every year before I go back to school."

"Be nice," Albus reminded him. "She's trying. Where's Will?"

"Getting dressed," Samuel said.

"And Lexi?"

"Checking her trunk for the fifth time," Adam answered. "She's worried she forgot one of her Quidditch gloves, but I saw her pack them."

Samuel sighed. "You know how she is."

Samuel's twin brother Will came downstairs moments later. They were identical in every way – broad shoulders, long straight noses, and stick-straight brown hair – except for where it mattered most - in personality. Samuel was an outgoing Gryffindor and kept his friends and family smiling and laughing most of the time, and Will was a sweet, quiet Hufflepuff who had cried when the Sorting Hat had separated him from his brother three years ago.

"Lex will be down in a second," Will announced. Like the others, he took turns hugging his parents good morning, and Scorpius held him for an extra second and kissed the top of his head. Until today, Will was the one Scorpius worried about the most when the kids went to Hogwarts. Scorpius knew all too well how cruel children could be. Adam's intelligence was a shield as the other students often needed his assistance, but Will… well, Will's kind heart made him vulnerable.

Samuel, on the other hand, was remarkably resilient and had wound up in Gryffindor. Despite the separation of all the siblings amongst the houses, Samuel and Lexi were a terror together with an endless supply of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at their fingertips, courtesy of their uncles and cousins – something Albus and Scorpius couldn’t control when the kids were away.

"I can't wait to get back," Samuel said. "I was talking to Grandpa Harry the other day – he said third year was the best."

"That's because it was the only year he wasn't nearly killed," Albus said. "I mean, he thought Sirius was after him, but he was never in any _real_ danger."

"Still, he said it was the easiest."

"Aunt Hermione said fifth year was the hardest," Adam said. "I'm not looking forward to OWLs. I'm quite worried about them. I hope I don't have to stay over the holidays to study."

"Don't you dare," Albus said quickly. He took holidays very seriously. "You're coming home for Christmas. I've already decided which tree we're cutting down and I need you to organize the ornaments. We couldn't possibly decorate it without you."

Adam blushed. He had the habit of compulsively organizing everything he could get his hands on and it had been especially limiting as a child until Albus started finding ways to put that energy to good use, starting with the Christmas decorations when he was seven. Adam excelled at evenly distributing the colored ornaments across the Christmas tree each year.

"Besides, why would you want to spend Christmas at Hogwarts when you can come home and help papa take care of the mooncalves in three meters of snow and in the mud?" Avery asked innocently. Adam rolled his eyes at her. Of all their children, he was the least talented with the animals.

Samuel and Will settled into their seats at the table, and Adam sat next to Avery on the counter, watching the bottom of the stairs closely. He and Lexi were very close despite their stark differences and acted more like twins than Samuel and Will did, though they couldn’t have looked more different. Where Adam was tall, pale and freckly with hazel eyes, Lexi was small and dark skinned with wild hair.

Lexi came downstairs moments later, already wearing her Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt and a wide grin.

"Morning, all!" she said brightly. She bounced into the kitchen with early-morning energy that Scorpius thought should be outlawed or bottled and sold – he wasn't sure which. Like her siblings, she hugged and kissed her parents before pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

"Did you have your gloves?" Adam asked softly.

"I did," Lexi admitted (she hadn't needed the gloves, but Ginny had insisted). "I just had to check, though."

Lexi seemed to have a sixth sense for Adam's anxiety and quickly moved to her brother's side and settled there.

"You okay?" she asked.

Adam nodded and tucked the tag on the back of her shirt into her collar.

"Yeah. Just nervous."

"Don't be. We'll get you through OWLs just fine."

"I've already made a study schedule," he admitted.

Lexi laughed and shook her head. "Of course you have."

"But we have to deal with the library's curfew. That can be very limiting."

" _We_ don’t have a curfew," Samuel said. "Orion is Head Boy. We can do whatever we want!"

Albus shook his head at Samuel. "I'm pretty sure you still have to obey the rules, Sam."

"Besides," Avery added, "Harriet is Head Girl and he'll do anything to impress her."

Scorpius sighed and shook his head, thinking of his little brother. Well, Orion was hardly little anymore. He was seventeen and somehow managed to look just like both Draco and Scorpius while still being far more handsome (though Albus disagreed). Scorpius and his father found it infuriating. Dania couldn't have found it funnier.

"Harriet likes rules," Albus reminded them. "Expect Orion to follow them as long as she's watching."

Scorpius looked around to the five children in the kitchen. As the clock continued to tick towards their departure time, he started to get more and more nostalgic. He remembered the first time he'd held Avery when Ainsley had handed her to them as a crying infant. He remembered orphaned Lexi coming to them just after her first birthday – confused and energetic, much like she was now, and sweet Adam whose troubled teenage mum had decided to give him up before he was born coming home at only three days old – tiny and particular.

He and Albus had nearly stopped adopting at three children – they were certainly a handful – but when Ainsley contacted them about Samuel and Will, they could hardly say no. At two the twins were adorable – Samuel with all his energy and quiet Will whose sweet demeanor won everyone over quickly.

Five, they'd said, was their limit. They said five was enough. They said five had been a part of their plan, like the barn and the library. Five children – none of them named after relatives or stars. Life was hard enough without having a weighty name to carry, and their compound surname was enough.

But, like the library that had to be moved downstairs into an added room, their idea of only five children had fallen by the wayside.

Scorpius met his husband's eyes and knew Albus was thinking the same thing he was. Albus cleared his throat and looked at their kids who were excitedly chatting about tonight's feast.

"We need to talk about Charlie."

That got their attention very quickly. They'd never intended for any of their children to carry a family member's name, but as Albus and Scorpius always said when someone brought it up – this wasn't really their doing.

"Yeah, before she gets down here," Avery said sitting up straighter. Albus folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the sink.

"She's been acting weird, right?" Adam asked, looking between his fathers. Adam was notoriously bad at reading people, and had been making a serious effort to get better at it. "I'm not imagining it?"

"No," Lexi confirmed. "She's definitely been acting weird."

Adam smiled at her, grateful for the guidance.

"You lot need to keep an eye on her," Albus said. "You've got all four houses covered. No matter where she winds up – you take care of her."

"Obviously," Avery said.

"Yeah, Uncle James gave us a _really_ long lecture last night," Samuel added, rolling his eyes at the memory. "Apparently he takes the importance of looking after your younger siblings very seriously."

Scorpius cut off Albus' undoubtedly snide comment. "As he should."

Albus took the hint and backed down with a huff. "Anyway," he began, "I'm worried about how she'll do her first few weeks."

"Orion has already arranged for all of us and Ella to have dinner with him in the Head Boy and Girl's quarters on Thursday nights," Will said. "He told us last night at dinner."

Ella, Ainsley and James' eldest child, was going into her second year at Hogwarts – something which astounded Scorpius constantly, since she always seemed to be a bit younger than her age.

"I hope she's in Hufflepuff," Will added. "I'm all alone down there."

"At least you're near the kitchens and get some sunlight," Lexi scoffed. "The squid creeps me out at night."

"I like the squid," Avery muttered meekly. The two sisters had a well-documented difference of opinion on the matter.

As Avery and Lexi started squabbling, Scorpius moved over to Albus and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to go check on Charlie," he said.

"I'll come with you," Albus offered. "These guys are fine."

Scorpius led Albus up the stairs past Avery and Lexi's door, past Adam's, and past Samuel and Will's door to the smallest room near the stairs to the attic. He paused for a moment and looked back at Albus, uncertain, until he felt his husband's hand come to rest between his shoulder blades.

"You okay?" Albus said quietly.

Scorpius nodded, though he wasn't so sure. He didn't feel that he had the right to be anything less than okay when the kids were headed off to school. Today, he needed to be okay with letting them all go for the first time.

"I'm just worried about her," Scorpius said.

Albus' hand moved in a small, soothing circle across his back. Scorpius tucked a stray lock of dark hair back behind Albus' ear with a small smile.

"I know," Albus said. "It's the first time they'll all be gone."

Scorpius sighed and leaned into Albus a bit, resting his forehead against Albus' shoulder.

"But," Albus continued, sliding his free arm around Scorpius' waist, "that does mean I have you all to myself for the rest of the day. And when was the last time we had the house to ourselves for more than a day?"

Scorpius wracked his brain, trying to remember.

"Three and a half years ago," Scorpius answered. "When I brought you home from the hospital after the Dragon Pox."

Albus cringed at the memory, and Scorpius kissed one of the few small pock marks on Albus' neck. Albus had contracted a mutated strain of Dragon Pox working in the field, and before he knew it had passed it on to Lexi when he'd visited the kids on a Hogsmeade Trip while Scorpius was away. By the time Scorpius came home from a visit with some colleagues in Canada, Albus was nearly unconscious in the study, having sent Samuel, Will and Charlie off to his parents because he thought he had the flu, and no less than ten letters from the Hogwarts nurse telling them to come quickly.

Three weeks in Saint Mungo's – only two for Lexi as her youth had helped her heal faster – and some excellent medical care later, Albus had only a few visible scars, and Lexi only had a small patch on her calf.

Scorpius, however, had been scarred for life after watching Albus and his daughter struggle to breathe for days on end, and when Albus had come home, he vowed never to call his husband dramatic when he talked about Scorpius' kidnapping or the Greengrass Curse again. Now, he understood.

"Precisely," Albus said. "And I was in no fit state to monopolize upon having you all to myself."

"You were in no fit state to do anything," Scorpius said with a smirk. "I had to spoon feed you."

"I could have done it myself if I wanted," Albus countered, letting go of Scorpius and heading to Charlie's door. "Maybe I just like being doted upon."

Scorpius couldn't argue with that.

Albus knocked on Charlie's door and waited respectfully for the sound of her small voice.

"Come in!"

Albus nudged the door open and Scorpius followed him. Charlie's room was small and warm with cream colored walls and lights Scorpius had enchanted to float along the edges of the ceiling and respond to her moods. He was sad to see that right now they were far dimmer than he'd seen them in recent memory.

"Do you have everything packed?" Albus asked, as though that was their real reason for coming in.

Scorpius looked around him to see their youngest daughter seated on her brand-new Hogwarts trunk, tracing her fingers across her initials on the top – CMP. Her long golden hair was pulled back into a careful plait – something Lily had taught her a few months ago and she'd been practicing it ever since – sometimes on Albus and Avery.

Though Charlie was small for her age she seemed older than eleven. There was a gravity to her – something in her green eyes that held people's attention. Those who knew little about her often said she was intelligent and called her an 'old soul,' but Scorpius and Albus knew better. She'd had to be intelligent and grow up fast. Charlie had never had a choice back when she went by Charlotte.

"I think so," Charlie said, looking around the room – everywhere but at her fathers. "I know I can't take everything. If I forget something – maybe I can come home and get it?"

Scorpius frowned at her uncertainty. She was already looking for excuses to come home and she hadn't even gone through her sorting. Her hands were moving constantly – tracing the letters, then twisting together in her lap.

The rest of Albus and Scorpius' children had been adopted before the age of three – only Will seemed to have any memory of his birth mother, and Adam exchanged letters with his but had never met her in person until he was ten. Charlotte, on the other hand, had come to them under duress – a late night visit from Ainsley who didn't know what to do with the tiny witch the ministry had found wandering the London street outside the visitor's entrance with an anonymous note saying "I cannot take care of my daughter anymore" pinned to her skirt.

"Sure," Albus said. "You always know you can come home, but it's important to spend time at Hogwarts, too."

"Yeah," Charlie muttered, looking down at her brand-new trainers (which she hadn't needed but Draco had insisted). "I know."

Albus looked at Scorpius, confused. Scorpius mulled over Charlie's behavior over the last few days – being alternately clingy and distant and repeatedly discussing how the semesters really weren't that long and she'd be home plenty – and started to piece things together.

"Charlie," Scorpius began. "Is something bothering you?"

"No," she grumbled with some adolescent petulance. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're about to break your fingers," Scorpius said.

Charlie's fingers froze immediately, and she looked down at the knot and the tiny ring on her pinky finger (something else she hadn't needed, but Ginny had insisted). She sighed and separated them and sat on her hands. Albus looked at Scorpius, confused, but Scorpius gave him a nod that clearly said, 'I got this.'

Scorpius crouched down in front of Charlie's trunk and bent into her eyesight, forcing her to look at him.

"Charlie, are you afraid we're going to forget about you?" Scorpius asked. Charlie looked away from him and looked out the window. Already at eleven her face had lost some of the childlike roundness it had when she'd met them. She was going to be a beautiful young woman with straight features and piercing, intelligent eyes. Already he was worried about all the attention she'd get from boys her age (and maybe from those a bit older).

"You _are_ , aren't you?" Albus said, aghast.

"Charlie, look at me," Scorpius said. She begrudgingly looked over at him, her lips pressed together and her shoulders taut. He took her face into both his hands until she met his eyes. She'd figured out long ago that those big celery green eyes could melt both her fathers (and her eldest brother) in a heartbeat, but she wasn't using that now. She was searching Scorpius' face for reassurance, and that was something he was happy to give her.

"No one is going to forget about you," he said slowly and intently so she couldn't miss a word. "I know that might be difficult to believe, given some of the things that have happened to you, but _no one_ in your family – not me, not your papa, not your grandparents or aunts or uncles, will forget about you. Ever. And certainly not just because you went off to school."

Charlie sniffed and hung her head. "Lexi says she barely sees anyone because the houses don't mingle," Charlie lamented. "She sees Adam almost every day, but she also said they're so busy all the time –"

"Lexi is in Slytherin by herself," Albus reminded her. "And Lexi's a bit of a loner. You know that. It doesn't mean she doesn't love her family and they don't love her."

"But what if I'm in Slytherin too?" Charlie asked. "I think that's where I should be. I'll never see Orion and Avery! And Orion's only going to be there for another year and then he'll just be gone!"

"Orion isn't leaving," Scorpius reminded her, though he was always happy when his kids showed just how much they loved his little brother. "Just because he's leaving Hogwarts doesn't mean he's _leaving_. He'll probably live with dad and Dania for a while, and then move somewhere nearby."

"You'll still see him all the time," Albus added.

"Especially if Albus keeps making lasagna," Scorpius added. Charlie nearly smiled. For a relatively thin kid, Orion's lasagna- and pasta-eating skills were legendary. Their family trip to Italy a few years ago had been something to behold.

"I just don't want to go…" she muttered. "I don't want to leave. I'll miss you both so much."

"We're going to miss you too," Albus assured her. He sat down on the trunk beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you here. The last two years it's been just the three of us. Who am I going to make pancakes for on Sunday mornings?"

Charlotte shrugged as though she wished she had an answer.

"You're going to love Hogwarts," Scorpius told her. "You're going to make friends. You're going to be around your brothers and sisters and cousins all the time without your parents around –"

"Merlin help us," Albus added.

"And if you hate it – and you might for the first little while – you write to me and your papa every day," Scorpius said.

"There's also a two-way mirror in the hidden compartment inside the lid of your trunk," Albus added.

"Albus!" Scorpius hissed. They weren't going to tell her that unless it was necessary, but Albus shrugged. Apparently her distress made him feel that it _was_ necessary.

"There is?"

"Yes," Scorpius sighed. "So you can talk to us whenever you need to – but we want you to have fun, Charlie – not spend all your nights talking to us."

"I know," she said. Scorpius wiped a small tear away with his thumb. The next time he saw her, her summer freckles would likely have faded, and the thought made him want to keep her home more than ever. "I just don’t want things to change. I only came here five years ago."

"Just because you're going off to Hogwarts doesn't mean you're not our little girl," Albus said. "You'll always be the baby in this family."

"Unless you adopt another kid," Charlotte said.

"Not happening," Scorpius said. He caught Albus' introspective look and added a firm " _no._ "

"I don’t know if we ever told you this, but we only intended to have five kids," Albus said.

"You didn't want me?"

"That is precisely _not_ the point," Albus said. "We wanted you so badly that we changed a plan we'd held to for a very long time."

"Yes," Scorpius agreed. "The minute you looked up at me with those big green eyes, you had me wrapped around your little finger."

Scorpius took her hand and tapped on her pinky.

"Ah, the big green eyes," Albus said wistfully. "Fastest way to get Scorpius to do what you want."

Charlie laughed at their long-standing joke. "He's easy to manipulate."

"Slytherin," Scorpius said. "Slytherin to the bone."

"Or Gryffindor," Albus argued. "She's pretty brave."

"I'm smart, too," she said. "I could be a Ravenclaw. But I hope I'm a Hufflepuff. Will is down there all alone."

"Lexi is alone in Slytherin, too."

"Lexi doesn't _need_ anyone," Charlie said, and Scorpius had to admit it was a valid argument. Lexi had a core group of Slytherin friends that seemed to make her happy, but she made sure to see her siblings and cousins at least once a week. Will, on the other hand, would likely be over the moon with Charlie in Hufflepuff. Somehow, Scorpius could see her in any of the houses.

"Wherever you end up, we're proud of you," Scorpius said. "And I can promise, if you're thinking about us then we're thinking about you."

Albus leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Do you want to come downstairs for breakfast?"

"Is it pancakes?"

"Well, person going to Hogwarts for the first time does traditionally get to decide, so yes. Pancakes." Albus said.

"Then yes," Charlie said. She got to her feet and Albus ushered her from the room. Scorpius followed close behind, ready to get back downstairs and start helping with breakfast, but Albus held him back.

"Go on, Charlie," Albus said. "Your dad and I need to check on something."

Charlie gave him a thumbs up and headed downstairs, calling to her siblings as she did.

"What do we need to check?"

Albus answered him by grabbing his arm and backing him up against the wall. With his free hand, he skillfully removed Scorpius' glasses, folded them in one practiced motion, and slipped them into his pocket.

Scorpius grinned. "Oh."

Albus slid his hands up Scorpius' shirt and placed them on his hips – his mild callouses scratching at the skin enough to send a shiver down Scorpius' spine before Albus kissed him, his mouth moving impatiently against his husband's. Scorpius slid down the wall a couple inches to Albus' height and wrapped his arms around Albus' waist, pulling him close until their bodies were flush against one another.

After a moment, Albus pulled back and started kissing down Scorpius' neck, his hands moving over his sides. Scorpius laughed, trying to see if he could tug Albus closer (he couldn't), and settled for wrapping one arm tight around his waist and burying his other hand in Albus' hair, tugging the elastic holding it back loose. He sank his hand into it and Albus laughed against him.

"I didn't grow it out for you to play with," Albus said. And it was true – Scorpius knew he'd let his hair get longer out of frustration, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it.

"Thought you were living up to the Malfoy name."

"If we were living up to the Malfoy name we'd have peacocks and one son."

"True," Scorpius said, and immediately resumed kissing his husband. There was a commotion from downstairs – an eruption of noise and laughter and a shriek that sounded like Lexi, but Scorpius couldn't be sure. He was distracted by Albus' mouth and the heat of his hands and by assessing whether or not they could get away with a quick trip upstairs. Surely they had time –

"Ugh!"

Scorpius broke away and looked at the source of the noise. Samuel was at the top of the stairs with an exaggerated look of disgust on his face.

"Did you find them?" Avery yelled.

"Yeah, but they're up here being gross again," Samuel called back. He looked at his parents and shook his head, both amused and disapproving. "Seriously?"

"What is it, Sam?" Scorpius asked with a sigh.

"Orion is here."

Scorpius grinned. He hadn't been sure if Orion was going to come over, but he was glad he'd have the chance to see his brother for more than just a moment at King's Cross.

"We'll be down in a second," Albus told him, and Samuel stalked off quickly, clearly having seen enough.

Albus chuckled and withdrew his hands from under Scorpius' shirt.

"So clearly you know what I’m thinking about for tonight," Albus said with a smirk.

"I didn't need a demonstration," Scorpius assured him, tugging Albus back close again. "But I clearly appreciate it."

For a moment, Albus leaned against him, head bowed against Scorpius' shoulder.

"It's our eighteenth anniversary this week," Scorpius reminded Albus, combing a small knot from Albus' hair with his fingers.

"I know," Albus said. "I have a plan."

Scorpius wrinkled his nose and leaned back to look at him with suspicion. "The last time you 'had a plan' we wound up stranded in Russia with a toddler and a screaming infant."

"One time," hissed Albus. " _One time._ "

Scorpius quirked an eyebrow at him. Albus sighed.

"Ok, it's not a real plan," Albus said. "It's a couple of really good bottles of wine from that French vineyard you like and a roast dinner."

"How is that not a real plan?" Scorpius asked, grinning. "It sounds perfect."

"Good, because that's basically my plan for today, too," Albus admitted. "I'm not good with plans."

"Ah, that's fine," Scorpius said, kissing the side of his head before standing up straight. "I'll handle the planning. Speaking of plans –"

Scorpius consulted his watch and sighed. "Can you go get the kids fed? I'm going to go get dressed. We're going to be rushing as it is."

"I've already got the boys' trunks downstairs," Albus said, handing Scorpius his glasses before heading towards the stairwell. "We should be okay."

Scorpius nodded and headed towards the stairs to the attic. "Right. I'll meet you down there."

* * *

Albus had all the children eating around the massive table by the time Scorpius reappeared. He was dressed and had all the remaining trunks and bags levitating before him and stacked them up out of the way. He caught Charlie watching her dad closely, eyeing her own trunk with a bit of apprehension and discomfort, so he slid an extra chocolate chip pancake onto her plate.

"She's never going to go out with you," Avery said to Orion, who was already dressed in his Hogwarts uniform, his striped blue tie twisted into a complicated knot that was surely not standard.

"She most certainly will," Orion said. Albus watched as he and Scorpius exchanged a quick hug before Orion continued seamlessly. "Forced proximity, Avery. Forced proximity. She's Head Girl. I'm Head Boy. We have to work together _all year_."

"So you're going to coerce her," Lexi suggested.

"Of course not!" Orion said, outraged. His volume made Adam jump. Albus could tell Adam was getting fidgety – he always did before going back to Hogwarts. Albus slid him an extra pancake as well.

"Over the course of the year I'm going to continue to be a perfect gentlemen and eventually she'll see that I'm the perfect man for her," Orion continued.

"I think you might want to broaden your horizons, mate," Scorpius said. "I'm not saying Harriet Lupin will never go out with you, but you might want to get to know some of the other girls in your year too."

Albus cleared his throat and gave Scorpius a pointed look. Scorpius muttered, "not that I would know."

"You'll see," Orion said confidently, sitting up with perfect posture. His Head Boy badge gleamed on his chest. "She'll finally have to spend some time with me and I'll win her over."

"I don't see it," Will said. "She's nice and all, but she keeps changing her hair color. How can you ever find her in a crowd?"

Albus smiled. His cousin's metamorphmagus skills had fully matured over the last few years, and since she was, after all, a teenage girl, she rather enjoyed playing with them, much to her family's chagrin.

"I could find her anywhere," Orion said, his voice a bit distant and dreamy.

Charlie rolled her eyes at him. Albus heard her mutter something that sounded a lot like "delusional."

Adam looked over to Orion. Albus knew his son had a difficult relationship with Orion, who never stopped moving and was always excited about something. It made him difficult for Adam to read and understand.

"I thought you'd be heading to King's Cross with Grandpa Draco and Grandma Dania," Adam said. Orion shook his head.

"I spent all night with them," he said. "They'll meet me at the station with my trunk and all, but I told them I wanted to ride over with you guys – let my big brother take me."

Scorpius grinned at him. They had a large vehicle that was magically enhanced just for occasions like this, but it wasn't that big. Albus wanted to argue that the SUV would be packed enough as it is, but he couldn't deprive Scorpius of this little joy. He knew how much Scorpius loved his brother – he spent so much time with them that he often felt like a part-time seventh child, and Albus loved him too.

"You three can sit in the back, then," Albus said, pointing to Orion, Avery and Adam. "You're too tall for anywhere else."

"Don't be bitter just because you're short," Orion said.

"I'm not short," growled Albus. "I'm above average height. I'm just surrounded by tall people and I'm always next to the beanpole over here." He jerked a thumb at Scorpius.

"Wouldn't it have been faster to go to the station with your parents?" Charlie asked Orion.

Orion grinned. "Maybe, but I told dad that I wanted to go to King's Cross with you lot for the last time. Besides, I know there's an extra seat on the Al-Bus."

Everyone groaned at the pun. Lexi threw her fork down in disgust. Adam stared at Orion in disbelief and Albus gaped at the audacity of his brother-in-law's awful play on words. Scorpius, however, was delighted and offered him a high-five, which Orion met with enthusiasm.

"Seriously?" Albus said to his husband. "Are you sure your father didn't clone you and then that clone wound up in Ravenclaw somehow?"

"Positive," Scorpius said.

* * *

London seemed busier than usual for a Tuesday before lunch. Albus swore it had never been like this when they'd lived here – never this busy and crowded mid-weekday, but he supposed muggles were working less and were out and about more these days with advancing technology. At least that was what Scorpius told him – his job forced him to stay up-to-date on these things, and Albus was often subjected to his husband's excited rants about muggle technology. He never minded, of course. He loved Scorpius' excited ramblings about how life was improving around the world, but right now he wished just a few more of these people had been stuck in an office somewhere.

They had to park up a smaller street near the British Library. Judd Street was narrow but mostly quiet, and gave them cover enough to let an impossible number of people out of the vehicle and remove an inordinate amount of luggage. By the time everyone had all their things, they were running truly late and Scorpius cast quick lightening spells on the kids' trunks to make it easier and tossing most of them onto a folding cart. Orion carried Charlie's just to speed things up when it wouldn't fit, and they headed impatiently down the street.

They rushed down the street – Avery lamented that she couldn't stop at the cafe – and crossed Euston Road with some difficulty. Traffic was heavy and someone used their horn when it took a moment too long for the large family to cross, causing Adam to trip and nearly drop his owl. Albus had to restrain Lexi from screaming at the driver, and ushered the kids along the road, past St. Pancras International to King's Cross at precisely half past ten.

They crossed the large concrete courtyard at a near-jog – the sky was starting to darken already and the last thing Albus wanted was to deal with seven wet students, two sodden owls and Will's drenched cat, so they hurried along, holding cages steady with Albus pushing the trolley behind Scorpius who was moving as quickly as he could with Charlie clinging to his hand and arm. He watched as Will ran to catch up with them and took Charlie's free hand in his own, disregarding any scrutiny he might get from fellow Hogwarts students that might be in the crowd of people around them.

_Extra chocolates for Will at Christmas,_ Albus thought, and then felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Christmas was so far away. He hoped the kids would come home sometime during the semester – three and a half months was a terribly long time.

They made their way into the chaos of the train station. Albus spotted Rose and Henry up ahead, their arms around their thirteen-year-old son. Rose was lithe and graceful as ever and Henry looked like he'd put on a bit of weight. Albus suspected Rose didn't mind much, as her husband was still looking at her with the same worshipful expression he always did.

They were so far ahead that Albus couldn't call to them – they were through the barrier before he could, followed closely by Hugo and his two daughters, which meant Teddy and Victoire couldn't be far with Harriet – something that hadn't escaped Orion's notice. Albus caught him craning around the crowd, but it was no use. There were too many muggles about.

"Come on," Albus heard Scorpius say, ushering the kids along. "We need to get your things on the train."

They made it to the barrier and Adam took the trolley from Albus so he could walk Charlie through to the platform for the first time. Albus thanked him quickly and joined Scorpius with Charlie, who looked quite nervous. She'd always stayed behind with a grandparent before since the first day was so busy, and had only gone to the platform a few times to pick her siblings up.

"Nervous?" Scorpius asked. Charlie looked up at him and shook her head, but her trembling hand in Albus' said otherwise. He gave it a squeeze.

"We're just going to run at the wall, okay?" Albus said. "We did this once before."

"I remember," she said stubbornly.

"Of course you do," Scorpius said. He met Albus' eyes over the top of her head, amused with their daughter's tenacity, and nodded.

They rushed at the wall with Charlie between them and all at once they were on Platform 9¾, full of steam from the train, anxious parents and excited students in various states of dress from muggle street clothes to Hogwarts uniforms to their robes.

Charlotte looked around. This was the busiest she'd ever seen it, and she stood rooted to the spot taking in the line of scarlet and black that was the Hogwarts Express until Adam appeared behind them with the trolley, followed closely by Avery, Lexi, Sam, Will and Orion.

"There you are," came a slow drawl from beside them. Albus would have jumped at the sudden appearance of his father-in-law, but he was used to Draco's sudden appearances. He was a far cry from the Draco Albus had seen on the platform on his first day at Hogwarts clad in all black and stiff as a board. Aside from being older and grayer, this Draco was far more relaxed in a green button-up Albus knew was meant to show Slytherin pride and spite his youngest son. Dania wasn't far behind him, pushing the trolley with Orion's things.

"Mum! Dad!" Orion called, flashing them a brilliant grin.

"We thought you were going to be late," Dania said.

Draco smirked. "Harry's holding a compartment for you," he said.

Together, they wove through the crowd of greetings and goodbyes, and Albus spotted his parents standing near one of the compartments, the luggage door beneath the train open to show a blessedly empty area.

"Thank Merlin," Albus muttered.

"Come on," Harry greeted them quickly. "Let's get these loaded up."

While Ginny and Dania made sure the animals were safely aboard, Albus, Draco and Orion started putting the trunks into the luggage compartment. While Orion arranged Charlie's trunk atop his own, Albus looked up to see Harriet Lupin, beautiful as ever with a shock of dark purplish-brown hair eyeing him with interest and biting her lip. It took only a moment for her to realize she was being watched, and she met Albus' eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at her and gave her a knowing look that sent her off blushing to her parents and Uncle Ron.

Albus looked back at Orion and debated telling him, but Scorpius, who seemed to have noticed the exchange, shook his head.

"They're all in," Draco said. Harry closed the compartment. Albus noticed that retirement looked good on both his parents. They were tan and well-rested with little more to do than focus on their kids, grandkids, and whatever they intended to have for lunch. It suited them both.

Ginny checked her watch.

"Less than ten minutes," she said and immediately started gathering her grandchildren into her arms, starting with Lexi.

"I've got to go," Orion announced. "Head Boy and Girl have to be up front to check the train before we go."

He hugged Albus first before heading to his parents and brother, and Albus noticed Scorpius holding onto him for a second longer than was normal. When he let go, Albus thought he saw a few tears in his husband's eyes and hoped he was wrong. Crying in front of the children was not a good way to send them off, and they'd made that mistake before with Avery.

"Have a great seventh year," Scorpius told him. "Write to me – even if it's not cool to write to your big brother."

"I will," Orion assured him with a chuckle before waving goodbye to everyone and disappearing toward the front of the train.

"They grow up entirely too fast," Dania said. Ginny nodded in agreement, but Harry scoffed overtop Samuel's head as he hugged him.

"That's not what you said when he was teething and kept biting you," Harry reminded her.

Dania grimaced at the thought.

Albus hugged Samuel next and then Will, ruffling their hair.

"You both be good," he instructed. He looked at Samuel, forcing a stern expression that didn't come naturally. "I expect those Transfiguration grades to improve this year."

"Yes, papa," Samuel said. Will gave him one more hug before they left to climb onto the train.

Lexi was next. Albus smoothed down her intense curls and kissed the top of her head. "Keep us proud, Little Slytherin," he said. Lexi grinned up at him.

"Of course," she said. "I'll send you my first 'O' mark of the year."

"See that you do."

And then she too was gone.

Avery flung herself into Albus' arms after saying goodbye to Scorpius.

"Take care of Molly," she implored again. "Please?"

"Of course," Albus assured her. "I promise."

"The quilt –"

"I know, love," Albus said. She backed away, looking sheepish.

"I'll send you my Quidditch schedule as soon as I can."

"Yes," Albus said excitedly. "First string seeker this year!"

She grinned at her father's pride.

"I'll send your broom along as soon as I can," Albus promised. The whistle blew down along the platform. "Go! Go on."

Avery rushed up onto the train and disappeared.

Adam looked around nervously, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stepped away from Draco to Albus and Scorpius. Ginny and Dania still had Charlie's attention and were bent over whispering to her, now joined by Ainsley and Hermione (who were often seen in each other's company now that Ainsley was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and Hermione was mentoring her through her first few months under the new minister). James was nearby, and judging by the empty look in his eyes, he'd just finished saying goodbye to his daughter. Their son, eight-year-old James Potter III, was standing at his side looking rather bored.

"Are you okay?" Scorpius asked Adam. Albus was glad his husband was next to him again – saying goodbye to their children was hard enough – but he knew from experience that sometimes you had to say goodbye to your parents separately. Adam though, seemed grateful they were both there.

"I'm fine," Adam said. "Just anxious."

"Remember what we practiced," Scorpius said. Adam nodded and took a deep breath like he'd been instructed, and removed his hands from his pockets and unfurled his hands, stretching out his fingers. Scorpius nodded, approving, and smiled.

"You've got nothing to worry about," he said. "You're brilliant, Adam. I've seen your papers – you could have done wonderfully on your OWLs at the end of your third year."

"And if there's anything you need help on, we'll get it sorted over Christmas," Albus said. Care of Magical Creatures was Adam's weakest subject. "Uncle Charlie will be here too."

That seemed to be of some comfort, and Adam smiled.

"Right," he said. "I um… I better get going. I'll write to you tonight and let you know what happens with the sorting– in case Charlotte forgets to."

"Thank you," Scorpius said, as relieved as Albus.

Adam hugged Scorpius and then Albus before joining his siblings on the train.

Charlie looked over her shoulder to her parents. Albus caught his father's eye and noticed the solemn expression – he was thinking about their exchange on Albus' first day too. That had been a long time ago – a very long time – and Albus smiled at Harry. He wanted his father to know that it was okay – every issue they'd had and problem they'd faced since then was okay because they'd worked through it. Harry smiled back at him, proud and content. Ginny wrapped her arm around him as Charlie walked over to Scorpius and Albus, her head held high.

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asked her.

Charlie nodded, but Albus could tell she was nervous, so he did exactly what he knew his father would have – he kneeled in front of her and looked up at his daughter's worried face as Scorpius wrapped his arm around her, shielding her from everyone else.

"You're going to be fine," Albus said. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, and it might not seem like it today or tomorrow, but in a few weeks you're going to have settled in. You'll have made friends – I promise."

"What if I don't?" Charlie asked, earnest.

"I wasn't a likable kid," Albus admitted with a shrug. "Not at first glance. And everyone thought Scorpius was son of Voldemort. If the two of us can make friends, you'll be just fine. You're friendly and kind and smart. You're going to be brilliant at Hogwarts, Charlie."

She bit down on her lip another question clearly on her mind.

"What is it?" Scorpius asked.

"What if I'm _not_ put in Slytherin," Charlie asked. "That's where I really want to go, like both of you."

Scorpius smiled at Albus before pulling Charlie close and hugging her tight. She buried her face against his chest and gripped at his shirt.

"Trust the hat, love," Scorpius told her. "It knows where you belong more than you do. It takes your choice into account, but in the end, the Sorting Hat knows best."

"It does," Albus agreed.

He watched Charlie's chest rise and fall in a deep breath as she gathered herself and stepped away from Scorpius. Albus wanted nothing more than to quiet her mind and protect her when she was away. He knew she was strong and brilliant, but she was still their youngest. He wanted her safe.

Albus dug into the collar of his shirt, feeling around for something. He knew he had only a minute left, but this was important – he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. He drew out the small amber amulet and looked at it for a moment. There was a great scratch down the side from some creature scuffle ages ago, and a chip on the corner he knew had been earned the night he, Draco and Harry had rescued Scorpius from his Aunt Daphne. He'd barely taken the amulet off over the years – it was always there, unnoticed by everyone else, but Albus always felt its weight and knew it was keeping him safe.

Wordlessly, Albus pulled the black cord from around his neck and looked at Scorpius, whose face betrayed such affection and care that it gave Albus pause for a moment. He saw both his parents looking on with some pride, and it gave Albus a sense of conviction.

Albus put the black cord around Charlie's neck and adjusted it so the small piece of amber hung right over her heart. Charlie looked up at him, confused.

"But it's yours," she said. "You always wear it."

"It's yours now," Albus told her. He carefully dropped the amulet down her shirt so it was hidden from sight. "It's a bit old and a bit beat up, but it will keep you safe – just like us."

Scorpius' brilliant smile and kind eyes told him it had been the right thing to do. Albus caught Charlie as she threw herself into his arms – he knew she trusted that he would – and he carefully stood up, bringing her with him as the whistle blew from the Hogwarts Express one more time.

"We love you," Scorpius said, smoothing her hair down as Albus held her. Charlie stood on her toes and Albus bent down to hug her properly.

"So much," Albus added. He kissed the top of her head, squeezed her one more time, and let her go. It was harder than it had been with their other five children, and the hardest thing Albus had ever had to do was watch her walk away and hold Scorpius' hand, knowing he felt the same way.

Charlie backed up and smiled for them, and Albus thought it might have actually been somewhat genuine and he hoped he'd helped reassure her, because he _knew_ she was going to do brilliantly. Her hand rose to the amulet and she felt over it beneath her t-shirt.

"See you soon," she said. It was so much better than goodbye.

Albus and Scorpius watched as she climbed onto the train, and saw her join her siblings through the compartment window. She sat down between the window and Avery, who casually wrapped her arm around Charlie's shoulders and gave her dads an understanding nod.

The whistle blew again, and this time the train began to move before the echo faded. Albus had to fight the urge to walk alongside it – to keep an eye on their kids as long as he could, and he held Scorpius back from doing the same when he took a few steps forward. Scorpius gave him a sad, wounded look and Albus pulled him close to his side. He saw Scorpius glance over their shoulders to their families behind them, and in Albus' periphery, Draco gave a solemn nod.

"They'll be okay, right?" Scorpius asked.

"They will," Albus said. "And if they aren't, we're only an owl away."

"We all raised our kids to take care of each other," James said from behind them. As the train slipped from sight, Albus turned around to their families, keeping his arm around Scorpius' waist.

"They will," Ainsley said. "Just like Charlie will be there to look after Jamie when he goes to Hogwarts."

At James' side, the youngest James Potter's expression brightened.

The idea that so many Malfoys and Potters had gone to Hogwarts before and so many would follow was of some comfort to Albus and he started to follow the others back towards the platform exit. They were already in London – there were so many things they could do with the day if they wanted. Albus felt Scorpius lean into his side and was pleased to find that he was smiling contentedly, and he hoped maybe Scorpius felt a bit better too. Absently, Albus brushed the hair back from Scorpius' face as Harry, Ginny, Draco and Dania started talking about dinner plans for later in the week, and Ainsley and James tried to talk Jamie into a quiet day at the cinema.

"What do you want to do?" Albus asked as they crossed the barrier back into King's Cross and into the hustle of the station. He knew they could visit with their families or go with Ainsley and James, but Albus knew what he really wanted and he hoped Scorpius did too.

Scorpius smirked. "Rumor has it we've got a good bottle of wine or two, and I could use some time with my husband."

Albus grinned at him, thinking of their warm couch, a hot meal, and some quiet time alone. There was nothing he wanted more.

Albus and Scorpius said goodbye to their families – hugs and kisses and promises to see them in a day or so – and Albus noticed both their fathers held onto them a bit longer than normal. Just a beat. Just enough for Albus to know Harry was proud of him and that he was loved.

Ginny kissed his cheek and Ainsley made them promise to come over for dinner the following night. Draco and Dania told Albus and Scorpius a vacation was in order, and they agreed quickly before heading back out to Euston Road toward where they'd parked.

Albus was content to hold Scorpius' hand as they made their way back to their SUV. They were quiet – both thinking about their kids on their way to Hogwarts and both hoping they all had a wonderful year while also wishing they'd miss their parents just a little bit.

Albus climbed into the drivers' seat and waited for Scorpius to get settled before leaning across the console and kissing him softly and squeezing his hand, touching the ring on his finger.

"Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing The Quietly Series for almost over a year now, and it's been a constant activity through what has been a rather turbulent (but in the end, positive) time. Thanks to [@reverseclock](http://reverseclock.tumblr.com/) for beta reading 'Softly' and for catching my own continuity errors. 
> 
> I want to thank all of you who have read and reviewed over the course of this series. It has meant more than you know.
> 
> I'm already working on some more fic ideas, so stay tuned! If you want updates, follow me on Tumblr where I post links and updates pretty regularly. I'm happy to answer any questions and am open to requests and ideas: [ @ijustwalkintomordor](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/). I may also post some additional snippets and outtakes from this series when I'm able.
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in in this work. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.


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